Springtime in Savannah
by iris fibonacci
Summary: March 1880, Ashley Wilkes is getting married again. Rhett and Scarlett are unwittingly brought together by the blessed event! A story in three parts, each part told from a unique point of view.
1. Chapter 1

_The usual disclaimer applies, GWTW and all the characters are the property of Margaret Mitchell and her heirs. Many thanks to Skyebugs for beta-ing, and to SJ for prodding. _

**Springtime in Savannah**

Late March 1880

Part I – Ashley Wilkes

_Though nothing can bring back the hour  
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower;  
We will grieve not, rather find  
Strength in what remains behind;_

--William Wordsworth

When the train from Atlanta arrived in Savannah, Ashley Wilkes disembarked with a light heart and a spring in his step. Tomorrow would be his wedding day. The joy he felt filled him, and spilled over to every person he met as he moved through the crowded terminal. After instructing a porter to send his luggage to the Marshall House Hotel, he exited the station and headed up West Broad toward Bay Street. He walked quickly, purposefully, toward his destination, a tobacconist's shop. His fiancée awaited him at a downtown tearoom, but she had asked him to complete this errand first, the purchase of cigars for the gentlemen wedding guests.

As he walked, Ashley considered the turn of events that brought him to this juncture in life. Melanie would always be enshrined in his heart as the embodiment of his dreams of the past, and his longing for the life they never shared at Twelve Oaks. Yet, here in Savannah he found a last vestige of the old days. His fiancée lived in an elegant mansion on Lafayette Square, built before the war by her grandfather as a wedding gift for her parents. Her father, a French physician, filled his home with the evidence of his predilection for culture and intellectual pursuits. The library contained books, floor-to-ceiling, in English, French, German, Latin and even some in Greek. The centerpiece of the music room was a grand piano, surrounded by lesser instruments: a violin, a flute, a cello, and a classical guitar. Fine oil paintings brought from Paris lined the walls. The feeling elicited upon entering this home for the first time instantly transported Ashley back to those years before the war when he had been a guest in gracious mansions such as this. That feeling answered the cry of the deepest yearning of his heart for a return to that place in time where he felt himself to be master of his own destiny, capable of passion unfettered by his inadequacies in the face of harsh reality. So, by some mysterious alchemy of the spirit, a miracle occurred in the home on Lafayette Square, and late in life he fell in love with Evangeline Desormeaux.

While the thought of this marriage pleased him, it also held an edge of uncertainty. He decided to take a gamble on this new union, despite his family's skepticism about the prospective bride. After all, they pointed out, she was not a cousin of the Wilkes. He understood their misgivings, he knew Melanie like he knew himself they were so alike. Evangeline was different--a passionate, elegant, educated lady who had travelled and was unafraid to speak her mind. Just when he thought he knew what to expect from her, she would surprise him, and he would find himself more tightly ensnared by her charm. Evangeline brought him out of the realm of death and darkness, into a world ripe with possibilities and blossoming with new life, into the beauty of springtime in Savannah.

In the months after Melanie's death, in the depths of his grief, Ashley had gotten into the habit of drinking in the evening. Not to excess, just a glass or two of sherry to make himself feel comfortably numb, and blur the edges of reality. He wondered why he hadn't taken up the habit long ago; he found it such a pleasant way to escape the pain of living in a world that was too harsh, too sharp, and too cold, a world in which he was not equipped to live. Then, he would think of Melanie. A great stab of pain would lance through him as he envisioned her endearing heart-shaped face, and hear her telling him how she disliked men who imbibed. That's why he never drank before.

Once the liquor took hold and sufficiently softened reality, it was easy for Ashley to slip the surly bonds of the present, and dream of the past. He constantly turned over the events of the summer and early autumn of 1873. "What ifs" consumed him, and he felt profound guilt. The death of Bonnie Butler had shattered their quiet existence. Ashley and Melanie grieved for their lost niece, and watched helplessly as her parents fell apart. Scarlett became withdrawn and silent, while Rhett drank to wretched excess. Melanie's heart went out to them both, and sometimes, she would weep disconsolately, for the child as well as her grief-stricken parents. Seeking affirmation of the power of life and love, she reached out to Ashley, and he was incapable of turning her away, so starved was he for physical touch.

The two months before Melanie died were preserved in Ashley's memory like a jewel of incomparable worth. It was the sweetest time of their marriage. Melanie was with child making precautions to prevent conception unnecessary, consequently, they began sharing a bed. Ashley cherished those nights, taking his wife in his arms and holding her close, seeing her face, first thing in the morning, and last thing at night.

Melanie glowed with incandescent happiness. Yet, Ashley was anxious. He felt a growing sense of unease as her slight figure thickened imperceptibly. Dr. Meade's words reverberated in his head. "She should never have gotten pregnant again! What were you thinking?" Melanie believed if she could safely make it through the first three months, all would be well. Each new day was ticked off as movement toward that elusive goal.

On a beautiful October afternoon, as shafts of sunlight slanted through golden leaves and made the whole of Atlanta appear gilded, their world came crashing down. India sent word to the mill that Melanie was sick, and that Ashley should come home immediately. The persistent knot of worry in his gut tightened. Melanie had been feeling bilious in the morning, but it didn't seem to be anything serious. When Ashley opened the front door and saw Dr. Meade, he knew in his heart their period of grace was over. The doctor announced that Melanie was hemorrhaging badly. The baby was lost, and, if the bleeding could not be stanched, Melanie would die as well. For the next two days, Ashley watched helplessly as the life drained out of her. She grew pale, and then paler still, until his gentle wife left him.

The darkness of pain and guilt covered him like a shroud; he felt as dead as Melanie, yet, he still breathed. It took time for Ashley to rouse from the torpor of his grief. A year and a half later, after listening to Reverend Wallace preach his Easter sermon, a fragile sliver of light pierced Ashley's gloom. If he had faith, he would see her again on the glorious day of Resurrection. A modicum of peace descended on his soul.

By an ironic twist of fate, Ashley owed his present happiness to Scarlett. He long suspected that she had made some sort of deathbed pact with Melanie because she was such a constant presence in his life for a time as he grieved most deeply. Initially he thought it was because Scarlett still loved him, but he learned the truth one evening when he stopped by her house for a visit. He caught her off-guard, after she had consumed more than her usual evening portion of brandy, and in that moment of weakness, she blurted out her love for her absent husband, bitterly repeating Rhett's words condemning her for the mistakes of the past. Never one to confront ugly realities head on, Ashley attempted to sweep the encounter under the rug and ignore it, but then realized his selfishness. Scarlett was hurt and isolated. Just as she had given him support in the depths of his grieving, she now needed his friendship.

Later, after Rhett divorced Scarlett, Ashley proposed to her, out of a sense of obligation for all she'd done for him. He felt Rhett had wronged her, and he wanted to atone for his own shameful behavior. Her reaction shook him to the core.

Scarlett laughed so hard she almost cried. In her bitingly forthright manner she told him: "I shall never remarry. No man will ever have the power to hurt me again, not you, not Rhett. Especially not you!"

Ashley winced at the emphasis she placed on those last words. He was forced to acknowledge that in years gone by he was at fault for confusing her with his talk of honor, although his words reflected his own confusion. Her elemental nature and physical charms stirred his frustrated sexual needs. At times he felt irresistibly drawn to her, but could never allow himself to act on those impulses. Scarlett's inability to grasp subtleties blinded her to the fact that in his eyes she was merely the beautiful object of his desire, a woman for whom he had a sentimental, almost brotherly, fondness.

Scarlett suffered her husband's rejection, and ultimately the brutal blow of divorce with her usual grit and fierce determination to survive. She continued about her business with her head held high, despite the fact that she had become a social pariah. All Atlanta sympathized with Rhett. They said the divorce was Scarlett's comeuppance for her coldness toward the man as he mourned the death of his only child. Yet, Ashley witnessed firsthand the grievous effects of Rhett's defection. He saw it almost daily in the way Scarlett treated her children. She became a martinet, demanding obedience and conformity to all the requisite social dictates and proscriptions in an effort to regain acceptance by the society that shunned her. Under Rhett's tutelage, Scarlett had defied the rules and suffered as a consequence, so Ashley assumed she wanted her children to avoid her fate. He tried to act as a father to them, and became a welcome refuge from their mother's strict discipline.

When Scarlett took Ella to Savannah to enroll her in the St. Vincent de Paul Academy, Ashley accompanied them. The Desormeaux home on Lafayette Square was near the recently completed Cathedral of St. John the Baptist, and the adjoining convent and school. Scarlett and her cousin, Marie-Ange, decided that Ella should live with the Desormeaux' while attending the convent school. During that visit he had the pleasure of meeting Evangeline, charming daughter of Louis and Marie-Ange Desormeaux, for the first time.

_After supper, while the women sat in the parlor chatting, Dr. Desormeaux took Ashley into the library for an after-dinner libation. He opened his liquor cabinet, and turned to Ashley, smiling warmly. "What is your preference, Mr. Wilkes?"_

_"Do you have any sherry?"_

_"Ah, an aficionado of the Spanish wines. Do you prefer oloroso or amontillado?"_

_"Oloroso, please."_

_Ashley took the offered glass, swirled the dark wine around, and savored its bouquet before drinking. "A very fine vintage. Thank you, sir."_

_Dr. Desormeaux poured a glass for himself, settled comfortably into a chair, and they spent the next few hours deep in conversation, mostly about literature and philosophy. Ashley was in his element._

_"Voltaire or Rousseau?"_

_"I've read both."_

_Louis Desormeaux chuckled. "No, Mr. Wilkes, you misunderstand me. I'm French, yes? It is a question of philosophical preference: Voltaire or Rousseau. As a man of medicine, a scientist, I prefer Voltaire." He shook his head. "Rousseau is too emotional for my taste, although his ideas about government have some appeal."_

_Ashley smiled in understanding. "I share Rousseau's sensibilities."_

_"Ah, a romantic! I debate this with my daughter. You see she studied biology and chemistry at the women's college in Macon. If she were a man, she would make a fine physician. Though she is a budding scientist, she also finds appeal in the writings of Rousseau."_

_Ashley mulled over this comment, and asked out of polite curiosity: "Do you object to women doctors?"_

_"Do you approve of them?" Louis countered, equally curious._

_As if on cue, Evangeline appeared at the library door. "Papa, Mama is going to play. She would like you and Mr. Wilkes to join us in the music room."_

It was a heady mixture, the stimulating intellectual discussion, the wine, the music, and a lovely and educated woman, nearly young enough to be his daughter sitting next to him. Something inside Ashley was starting to awaken, although it would take a few years for him to fully recognize it.

Within the next year, Louis Desormeaux died of yellow fever during the epidemic of August 1876. In her season of mourning, Evangeline found comfort in spending time with Ashley whenever their paths crossed. He was gentle and gentlemanly; he listened. She wanted to attend a women's medical college in Philadelphia. She had tolerated her father's opposition to the idea, but now that he was gone, she was more convinced than ever that this was her path in life, following in the footsteps of her adored Papa. Ashley fought for control of his wayward feelings; he admired her determination, but didn't want to see her go away. He advocated for Evangeline's choice anyway, and eventually Mrs. Desormeaux gave her blessing to her daughter. When Evangeline returned from Philadelphia after two years of study, a newly graduated doctor, Ashley proposed.

**(snip)**

Scarlett sat at her desk poring over the books for her stores. As her social world contracted in the aftermath of her divorce, she devoted herself to business, and business had been very good. Years ago, Louis Desormeaux had encouraged her to capitalize on Savannah's growing prosperity, and thriving shipping industry to develop a line of imported goods among the wares she offered for sale. Scarlett took his advice and expanded her inventory, as well as the scope of her operation. She opened three branches of Kennedy's store, along the railroad lines from Atlanta to Savannah and Augusta, one in Macon, one in Augusta, and then, one in Savannah. The Savannah store had formerly been owned by her uncles Andrew and James. Scarlett joined forces with her O'Hara cousins to enlarge it, and make it part of her chain.

Since her daughter was in school there, and she had her business interests to tend to, Scarlett spent a lot of time in Savannah. The elite of Savannah society accepted her as part of the Desormeaux family circle. Marie-Ange told anyone who had the audacity to inquire about her marital status that Scarlett was a woman wronged by a bad man, one who abandoned her. Those who met her accepted the explanation without question, though the taint of divorce still clung to her. Atlantans perceived things differently. Consequently, though Scarlett had detested Savannah when she visited in her young widowhood, she found a more congenial society in the city as a middle-aged divorcée.

On this particular evening, she was in her Savannah office, finishing her work. She and Ashley had travelled from Atlanta together. She didn't understand his eagerness to come to Savannah with her, but Scarlett had given up long ago trying to understand much of anything about Ashley Wilkes. The man lived with his head in the clouds as far as she was concerned.

Scarlett heard a soft knock at the office door. "Come in," she called out distractedly. She was engrossed in the task at hand and did not welcome this interruption.

Ashley entered her office, smiling shyly. "Good evening, Scarlett. I've come straight here to tell you. You're the first to know."

"Know what? What are you talking about?" she snapped impatiently.

"I've asked for Evangeline's hand, and she has accepted me. We are going to be married!"

Scarlett hadn't been paying him much mind, but the word 'married' got her attention, and she looked up from her ledgers, and frowned. "Who's getting married?"

"I am. I proposed to Evangeline and she accepted!"

"Great balls of fire! Ashley Wilkes, you can't be serious! Why she's… You're… What did Marie-Ange say? Surely, she didn't…" Scarlett was so dumbfounded by the announcement she couldn't quite complete a coherent thought or raise a logical objection, but object she did. Who did he think he was, marrying such a young woman?

Scarlett's sputtering reaction was risible, and Ashley laughed. "You think I'm too old to marry her? Mrs. Desormeaux is quite pleased, as is Evangeline. I wanted to share our happiness with you first."

It was nice to know someone was happy, Scarlett thought bitterly. Happiness had eluded her for years. When had she last been happy? With a start she realized that the last glimmer of happiness left her life at about the same time Rhett did. Damn the man!

Scarlett put down her pencil. "What about…?"

What about Melanie? Her unspoken thought hovered in the room like a ghostly presence. She never put much credence in that nonsense about a widow's heart being in the grave. Lord knew, hers hadn't been, but Ashley certainly seemed to have acted that way for a few years after Melanie died. But then, hadn't they all? It seemed vaguely disloyal to contemplate Ashley married to another woman, especially one so young. Yet, on the practical side, Evangeline was something of a bluestocking, and an old maid to boot. She was trained as a doctor and wouldn't need to rely on Ashley to support them both. Maybe it was just as well; somebody else could take care of him for a change.

Sensing what she was trying to put into words, Ashley gave Scarlett a thoughtful look. "I've been alone for too long. You've taken such good care of Beau and me, but I don't want to be a constant burden to you. I've missed… I need… Well, it's lonely without... without someone there." He averted his gaze. "I know you know what I mean."

Unfortunately, she did. Loneliness was something Scarlett could readily understand. During the last few years of their marriage, she looked forward to each of Rhett's visits, no matter how distant he seemed, or how coolly he treated her. She truly tried everything she could think of to make him love her again, to no avail. Her transparency had always amused him, so he effortlessly repelled her feminine wiles, and rebuffed her affectionate overtures. Instead, he was true to his word. He promised her a show of togetherness in order to quell gossip, and made sure they were seen in public. During his brief visits, whenever they attended concerts, plays, or went out to dine and dance, he was polite, but maintained his distance. In the privacy of their home, he was quiet and aloof. Scarlett had never been so frustrated with the behavior of any man of her acquaintance. He'd always had that effect on her, but now he drove her to distraction with his indifference, rather than his impudence. Despite it all, when the visits stopped, and he made his intentions known, she felt bereft.

Ashley looked at Scarlett, and she could see it in his face before he said the words. "Besides, I love her."

"Well," she said slowly, "my best to you both." Scarlett rose and embraced him. At least, she thought wryly, I've got you off my back now.

**(snip)**

Ashley arrived at the tobacconist's shop to retrieve the cigars that Evangeline had ordered. As he pushed open the door, a little bell attached to the frame, rang in welcome, and the pungent, spicy fragrance of tobacco wafted out. He happily made small talk with the shopkeeper as the man wrapped the cigars in a neat package.

"Old Doc Desormeaux used to smoke these," he remarked as he handed the package over to Ashley with a flourish. "He was one of my best customers, God rest him."

Ashley smiled appreciatively; he, too, remembered Louis Desormeaux with fondness. His absence tomorrow evening at the wedding would be keenly felt. He paid the shopkeeper, thanked him, and then, moved quickly toward the door, eager to be on his way. He glanced up at the clock on the wall; it was quarter of three. It had been a month since he had last seen Evangeline, and her most recent letter instructed him to meet her at three o'clock at the tearoom four blocks away from the tobacconist. The little bell on the door again rang, signaling the arrival of a new customer, but Ashley didn't notice it. The tobacconist called out to wish him and Evangeline much happiness. Ashley, looked over his shoulder, and smiled at the shopkeeper, acknowledging his well wishes with a wave. His attention thus diverted, he moved to cross the threshold, and walked squarely into a tall, broad-shouldered patron about to enter the shop.

"Oh, pardon me. I'm so sorry," he said, offering a flustered apology. He then looked squarely into the man's face, and blinked, momentarily stunned, when he realized he had blundered into Rhett Butler.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: The usual disclaimer applies. I do not own GWTW or any of the characters created by Margaret Mitchell. Thanks to skyebugs, again.**

Part I - Section 2

Ashley stepped aside so Rhett could enter the shop. The two men eyed each other guardedly for a moment.

"Butler looks well, albeit a little older," Ashley thought. His black hair was shot through with more strands of silver, and the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth appeared a little deeper. His skin was deeply tanned as though he'd spent a great deal of time outdoors. How long had it been since he'd last seen him? Four or five years?

Seeing this man, who meant so much to two of the three most important women in his life, confused Ashley. Butler had wounded Scarlett deeply, and for that he resented the accursed man. Yet, Melanie admired him, considered him to be a fine gentleman, and deeply honorable, even a good friend. However, Melanie hadn't lived to see her adored sister-in-law so thoroughly dishonored by him. For a brief instant, and perhaps the millionth time, Ashley pondered the chain of events that led to Melanie's death. But this time he carried it a step further, wondering, had she lived, would Rhett Butler still have divorced Scarlett? This powerful surge of feelings receded as quickly as it had come upon him, followed by the sense of impending disaster. Scarlett was somewhere in Savannah.

Ashley regained his composure. He would let nothing dampen his high spirits today, not even Rhett Butler.

"Why Captain Butler, what a surprise to see you here! What brings you to Savannah?"

"Yes, it's quite a surprise running into you as well," Rhett said wryly. He gestured to the youth following him. "This is my nephew, Alexander Butler. Alex, this is Mr. Ashley Wilkes of Atlanta."

"It's a pleasure to meet you young man." Ashley extended his hand to Alexander.

"Likewise, sir," the youth replied, holding Ashley's hand in a tight grip, while vigorously pumping his arm.

"Alex and I are here to visit my sister," Rhett remarked as he moved toward the counter.

As Rhett turned to place his order with the tobacconist, Ashley sidled up to the counter next to him. He wanted to probe a little more, and find out where Butler was staying. It seemed to him the most amazing of coincidences that, on the weekend when much of the extended Wilkes-Hamilton clan descended on Savannah, Rhett Butler should unexpectedly appear.

Rhett's young companion began to babble excitedly. "Uncle Rhett and I sailed here on his yacht. He's got the finest yacht in Charleston, in the whole south! Why he won the… "

Rhett fixed a gimlet eye on his nephew.

"Oh, sorry, Uncle Rhett," the boy said sheepishly.

The curious tobacconist jerked his head toward Rhett and Alexander. "Wedding guests?" he asked Ashley.

"No. An… ah, an old friend."

Rhett looked at Ashley with an inquisitive quirk of his eyebrow. "Wedding?"

The tobacconist spoke up before Ashley could. "Mr. Wilkes here is getting married tomorrow night."

Rhett coolly appraised Ashley. "Indeed?"

Ashley glanced up at the clock, and realized he had just wasted nearly ten minutes. If he tarried he would be late to meet Evangeline.

"Come with me, Captain Butler. I'm on my way to meet my fiancée now. I'd be honored to introduce you to her."

It never crossed Ashley's mind to consider that his anticipation of disaster might have been prescient.

ooIIoo

As they walked the few blocks from the tobacconist's shop to the tearoom, Ashley was voluble in his praise of his bride-to-be, yet never once identified her by name. Rhett thought this odd, but then Wilkes was, overall, a little odd. Rhett marveled that he let himself be led around by the nose by the besotted Ashley Wilkes, but rationalized that it was his great respect for Melanie Wilkes, and a deep curiosity to see the woman who was about to become the second Mrs. Wilkes that motivated him. Happenstance had brought Rhett and Ashley together. Perhaps there was some advantage to be gained from this meeting.

They arrived at the tearoom at five minutes past three. Ashley plowed through the room in haste, as he led Rhett and Alexander toward a secluded alcove at the far end of the sedate establishment, to a table pointed out by a member of the serving staff. Through the archway, Rhett could see a handsome middle-aged woman with dark hair and piercing eyes. He recognized Marie-Ange Desormeaux, the doctor's widow his sister had introduced him to last year in an effort to find him a suitable companion. "Such is the price of respectability," he thought ruefully. Every female member of his family knew an eligible unmarried woman she wanted him to meet. They sensed something vulnerable and raw in him and sought suitable female companions as a balm. Mrs. Desormeaux was older than Ashley; surely she wasn't his intended. To her left sat an attractive younger woman who strongly resembled her, presumably her daughter.

Rhett noticed a third woman sitting to the right of Mrs. Desormeaux, but he couldn't see her face, only her hand holding a teacup. A large potted plant created a lush green barrier, which screened the woman from view as the men approached. The fronds of the large palm were spread like a fortuneteller's hands covering her crystal ball, conjuring the future, against a backdrop of cream-colored wallpaper embossed with gold fleurs-de-lis. Upon entering the sheltered space, the fortuneteller's hands parted, revealing Rhett's past. The sight of his ex-wife jarred him. This woman had figured prominently in his sweetest dreams and worst nightmares, had robbed him of his peace of mind, and ended his devil-may-care bachelorhood; he never expected to have to face her again except in the darkest recesses of memory, where fantasy and reality clashed for domination in his mind.

The sharp clatter of fine bone china cup hitting saucer, and a loud gasp of shock broke the tranquility of the scene. Scarlett brought her napkin to her mouth as she began coughing wheezily, apparently choking on her inhaled tea. All looked at her.

Scarlett stifled her cough momentarily, as she and Rhett stared intently at one another. Marie-Ange's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she quickly glanced from Rhett to Scarlett who appeared flushed and rheumy-eyed.

"Scarlett dear, are you alright," Marie-Ange murmured solicitously, reaching out to pat her on the back.

Glaring at Rhett, she choked out her reply. "I'm fine."

"Sadistic bastard!" Rhett silently cursed Ashley. "No wonder he was so eager for me to meet his fiancée." The last thing in the world he wanted was confirmation of his long-held belief that his ex-wife would eventually end up married to Wilkes. He was about to turn heel and leave when he realized Ashley was standing behind the chair of the younger Desormeaux woman, holding her hand.

The sound of Evangeline's voice forced Rhett to stop staring at Scarlett.

"Darling, I've missed you so!" Then she acknowledged Rhett and Alexander. "You've brought friends, how lovely!"

Ashley's face lit up with the unmistakable glow of a man in love. "This is my fiancée, Evangeline Desormeaux. And this is her mother, Mrs. Desormeaux," he said gesturing toward the older woman. "Of course, you know Scarlett," he added in a strangled voice. "Evangeline and her mother are Scarlett's cousins." Scarlett looked like she had swallowed a ramrod, and was now glaring at Ashley.

Rhett murmured the requisite polite greetings to the two Desormeaux women, and nodded stiffly to Scarlett. He observed Evangeline beaming at Ashley. "She's smitten with him," Rhett thought. "This must be killing Scarlett."

Ashley gestured toward the Butler men. "Darling, I'd like you to meet Captain Rhett Butler, an… ah, Scarlett's former… ah, someone we know…, uh…"

Rhett's initial anger melted into amusement as he listened to Ashley's uncomfortable attempt at an introduction. Clearly he hadn't expected Scarlett to be here, so he took the initiative. "I am an old friend of Melanie Wilkes'."

Scarlett coughed again.

"And an associate of Mr. Wilkes as well," he said, respectfully inclining his head toward Ashley. "Formerly married to Scarlett," he added softly, as an afterthought. Rhett then gestured to the slack-jawed youth who was watching this scene unfold in pop-eyed amazement. "This is my nephew, Alexander."

Marie-Ange smiled warmly at Rhett and Alexander. "Captain Butler, I remember meeting you at Rosemary Lockwood's home. How pleasant to see you again."

"The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Desormeaux."

"Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood are invited to the wedding tomorrow evening. You are most welcome to join us," Evangeline said. "If you are free that is." She nestled her head against Ashley's shoulder, radiant in anticipation of their nuptials, seemingly oblivious to Scarlett's discomfort, having eyes for Ashley alone.

Her spontaneous invitation fell on disinterested ears. Rhett demurred, explaining that he was preparing for a sailing trip to Cuba, when young Alexander piped up.

"Uncle Rhett, you said we weren't leaving for Havana until Wednesday morning at the earliest."

The corners of Rhett's mouth twitched upward in a tight smile that did not reach his eyes. "Indeed, I did say that Alex." He graciously conceded to Miss Desormeaux that it might be possible for him to attend, and thanked her for the invitation before taking his leave and beating a hasty retreat.

As they walked away from the tearoom, Rhett fixed a hard look on his nephew. Alexander squirmed uncomfortably, sensing he had once again incurred his uncle's displeasure.

"Alexander, have you ever heard the expression 'discretion is the better part of valor'?"

Alexander eyed Rhett, and swallowed nervously. "No, sir."

"The next time we are in company, keep your mouth shut unless someone speaks to you first."

"Yes, sir," Alexander mumbled miserably, in acknowledgement of his error.

They walked the rest of the way to Rosemary's house in silence.

ooIIoo

Hours later on Lafayette Square, after members of the Wilkes family who had come to Savannah for the wedding dispersed for the night, Scarlett asked Ashley to come into the library.

The joyous family supper in celebration of the wedding made the years fall away. He was feeling expansive and happy tonight, and smiled the slow drowsy smile of his youth.

"Scarlett, what is it? A secret to tell me?"

Scarlett pulled him into the library and banged the door shut abruptly, piercing Ashley's aura of happiness.

"What I have to say to you is no secret! What in the name of Holy Heaven were you thinking when you brought that… that _man_ to the tearoom?"

"You mean Rhett?"

"Who in the world else would I be talking about?" she thundered. "The boy that was with him?" She didn't wait for an answer. "I have never in my life been so humiliated! How dare you?"

Ashley saw her hand trembling at her side, and for a moment was sure that she was going to slap him.

"Now, Scarlett, I was just as surprised as you were. I had no idea you were going to be there."

"You had no idea I was going to be there," she mocked in imitation of his weak excuse. "Damn it, Ashley! To whom do you owe allegiance? What has that man ever done for you? Or more to the point, look what he did to me! He's a snake!"

"He did save my life once. I owe him respect for that, if nothing else," Ashley said quietly.

Scarlett continued to rant on. Ashley listened patiently, waiting for her anger to cool, at which time he would try to talk to her rationally. It briefly crossed his mind to crack open the liquor cabinet and pour her a tot of brandy in order to get her to relax.

Outside the library door Ella, Wade, Beau, and the two younger Desormeaux sons, Daniel and Paul, listened with bated breath as Scarlett berated Ashley.

"What do you suppose set her off?" Paul asked.

Wade, Ella, and Beau exchanged knowing looks.

"She saw our stepfather this afternoon. She hates him!" Ella proclaimed.

"Uncle Ashley met him downtown, and brought him to meet Evangeline. He didn't know Mother was with her," replied Wade with a shrug.

"She sounds angry as a hornet. Maybe I should try to break it up," suggested Daniel, since he was the oldest member of the assembled group.

"No, she'll only yell at you, too. She'll get tired and stop soon," Ella said.

"I can calm her down," said Beau, smirking. "She never yells at me."

As Beau made a move to open the library door, Marie-Ange, appeared, heading down the wide center hall with an armful of table linens brought from the cedar closet upstairs. She paused when she heard the raised voices, and then saw the young people gathered outside the library door.

"What's going on in there?" she asked.

"Father is catching 'what for' from Aunt Scarlett," replied Beau.

Marie-Ange eyed the group askance, and suggested they occupy themselves elsewhere instead of eavesdropping on the conversations of their elders. She handed the linens to Ella and told her to take them to the dining room, then instructed the boys to find Nate, the butler, and help him rearrange the parlor furniture to accommodate dancing during the wedding reception. After they scuttled away, she entered the library.

"Scarlett, dear, our guests will hear you all the way upstairs. You must calm yourself."

Ashley made a move to leave the two women alone, but Marie-Ange caught his arm as he was about to exit the library.

"Ashley, I do believe you owe Scarlett an apology. You behaved as a fool today, bringing that man to the tearoom! Surely, you understand how you've upset her."

The last thing in the world Ashley wanted on this night was discord. He enjoyed a cordial relationship with his mother-in-law-to-be, and didn't want to compromise it.

He sighed, resignedly. "I can't fight you both. Scarlett, once again, I offer you my sincerest apologies for the error in judgment I made this afternoon. You are as dear to me as a sister, and I would never knowingly offend you in this manner."

Marie-Ange looked at Scarlett who glowered at Ashley. "Apology accepted," Scarlett muttered.

"Good! Now that that is settled, Ashley, why don't you go make sure the boys are helping Nate. They seemed to be at loose ends when I came down."

Marie-Ange gently nudged him toward the door, and once he was gone, she put her arm around Scarlett. "Don't torment Ashley. He meant no harm."

"Oh, fiddle-dee-dee! He may have meant no harm, but harm has been done! Why did you allow Evangeline to invite Rhett to the wedding?"

"It is Evangeline's day. I will support whatever she wants, and she wants to make Ashley happy. She assumed that Ashley only brought Mr. Butler to meet us because he wanted him to attend." Marie-Ange shrugged in the Gallic manner. "What can I say? They were both mistaken, however, we cannot give Rosemary offense. She is a friend."

The older woman led Scarlett to the settee, pulled her down to sit, and spoke to her quietly and soothingly. "You must let the past go. It is the only way you will find peace. So, he will be at the church tomorrow evening for the wedding. We will put our best face on things and be gracious."

Scarlett looked at Marie-Ange, her face creased in anger. It most certainly was not her best face.

"Scarlett, I have taken you into my home and my heart because I loved your dear mother. It grieves me to see you so distressed. Please, think of her, and how she would wish you to face this challenge."

Scarlett's eyes widened in horror at the thought of her mother knowing of her disgrace. "Mother would die if she knew I was divorced!"

"Perhaps. As I once vowed to watch over your mother, now I'm watching over you in her stead. You must behave graciously, and never let anyone know the burden you bear."

"Am I supposed to act like he's just an old friend? You know that's not the truth of it!"

"He's not a devil with horns and a tail! Surely he has a conscience. You'll be polite; you'll encourage him to talk to the children. He'll realize what a cad he's been. He'll leave and know he did wrong. You'll never see him again."

"Oh, if that's what you think, then you don't know Rhett Butler! Conscience, indeed! He's a black-hearted varmint, a skunk! He knew exactly what he was doing! He didn't care one whit! He left me, and Wade and Ella in Atlanta like stinking garbage, and disappeared forever! That wasn't the first time he'd abandoned me, either! He deserves to rot in Halifax!"

"Rosemary Lockwood introduced me to him at her home. He was charming, a delightful dinner companion. Darling, you must focus on what is important. You and your children will not benefit from this anger, no matter what wrong Mr. Butler has done you."

Scarlett shook her head stubbornly.

Marie-Ange stroked her cheek. "Dear Scarlett, you have the wild Irish temperament of your father, and your dear mother's sad refusal to make peace with the past. I know you loved him, and still he left you. That is a cruelty, but life is cruel. Don't let this spoil your enjoyment of the wedding."

ooIIoo

In the cozy parlor of a modest home on Houston Street, adjacent to Washington Square, Rhett Butler was settled in an overstuffed chair, a glass of fine port near at hand, trying to read the newspaper. After scanning the same paragraph for the third time, he realized he still couldn't remember a thing he'd just read. He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. As he pondered his situation, Rosemary joined him in the parlor having just put her children to bed.

She touched his shoulder briefly, as she moved past the chair her brother occupied. "Tired? It's been a long day for you." She lingered for a moment searching his face. "Alex told me you were down at the dock before dawn supervising the loading of supplies."

"No, I'm fine. It's not as though I actually lifted a crate; I have a crew for that."

Rosemary laughed as she sank into the cushions on the divan. "Well, I'm tired! Peter and Adele wear me out."

Rhett smiled. "The little devils certainly are energetic!"

"Rhett…" Rosemary's expression had changed to a frown of concern. "I've been thinking about this trip to Cuba. After what happened to you and the crew of the _Falcon_, do you really think this is safe?"

Rhett saw panic in his sister's eyes, probably reflecting her concerns for her children's safety should they encounter stormy weather at sea.

"It's not hurricane season yet. I've made this run to Havana many times, it'll be fine. Besides the _Saoirse_ is a much bigger craft, truly a seaworthy vessel. She did splendidly crossing from Glasgow. I think you'll enjoy the cruise."

"But you almost died!"

"However, I didn't." He paused, and reached over to pat her hand reassuringly. "It will be alright." He took a drink of wine. "Tell me a little more about this wedding tomorrow night."

"Well, Evangeline Desormeaux is marrying a man from Atlanta, named Wilkes. Do you know him?"

"I do. I met him by chance this afternoon on Bay Street, and had the pleasure of meeting the bride."

"Oh! So you're friends?"

"Not exactly. It's a rather complex relationship."

Rosemary frowned. "You're not friends, but he felt compelled to introduce you to Evangeline. I don't understand."

"His first wife was a close friend of mine, and Scarlett's sister-in-law."

"Oh! That is complex!"

"Mrs. Desormeaux' cousin was there as well. Have you met her?"

"Just once. I believe someone said she's from Macon. I don't recall her name, but she's in trade, which is rather scandalous. Of course, Evangeline is a doctor. It seems the women in that family aren't at all conventional! However, Mrs. Desormeaux is just lovely. She's a Robillard you know."

Rhett's eyes lit with interest. "No, I don't believe I was aware of that. When did you meet this cousin?"

"At a piano recital in her home. Mrs. Desormeaux teaches piano lessons. Peter and Adele are students of hers, so they were in the recital. Little Ella Kennedy, her cousin's daughter, was playing as well. We chatted briefly over a glass of punch afterward. "

"You mentioned she's in trade."

"Yes, as it turns out, she bought out her uncles' dry goods store and opened a new concern on Broughton Street called Kennedy's Emporium, after her deceased husband. Some of her O'Hara cousins work with her."

"She was introduced to you?"

"Yes, but I don't recall the name. Maybe O'Hara, but it wasn't Kennedy."

"Butler, perhaps?"

Rosemary laughed. "Silly! I'd remember that! Why all the questions?" A notion dawned on her, and she gave Rhett a knowing smile. "Would you like me to arrange an introduction?"

Rhett laughed at Rosemary's implication, and the irony of the situation. "It's really not necessary. The lady in question and I are intimately acquainted."

Rosemary sat bolt upright, scandalized by her brother's suggestion of impropriety. "Rhett! Surely you haven't…"

"Dear sister, she is my ex-wife."

Rosemary's mouth fell open in shock. "No!" she gasped. "Oh, Rhett, I'm so sorry! I had no idea! Oh, my goodness! Well, there is only one thing to be done about it; we won't go to the wedding! Oh, how could Evangeline put you in such an awkward position?"

"Obviously she didn't know. In fact, I'd go so far as to say Mrs. Desormeaux may not have known. From the sound of your encounter with Scarlett at the recital, I'm fairly certain she doesn't know you are my sister."

"No, I suppose not," Rosemary mused, then shivered in dread. "Oh, how perfectly beastly!"

"Don't fret about it. We'll go; it would be rude not to. I had a great deal of respect for Wilkes' deceased wife. She was a rare woman, a great lady."

"You're sure then?"

"Absolutely. What difference does it make? We'll be sailing off to Havana in a few days. By next week this whole contretemps will be quite forgotten."

ooIIoo

Ashley couldn't sleep. It wasn't nerves exactly, more likely regret. His innocent action, bringing Rhett Butler to meet Evangeline, had backfired spectacularly, and sent reverberations through the whole house on Lafayette Square. Before he left for the evening, he once again asked for Scarlett's understanding. By this time, his sister India, who was also staying with the Desormeaux', had heard the story, and found it wildly amusing, further provoking Scarlett's wrath.

Ashley downed several glasses of sherry as well as a glass of brandy to stave off the tension headache he could feel coming on. He then collected Beau and Wade, who were sharing this room with him, and fled for the hotel. In his inebriated state, he had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Now, at three in the morning, he was awake, and thirsty. He wanted to talk, but Beau and Wade were asleep. The deep, even breathing of his son and his nephew reassured him. Tomorrow evening they would stand with him at the altar. Not wanting to disturb them, he rose quietly from his bed, and went to the window, looking down on Broughton Street while drinking a glass of water. Nothing stirred; there was no movement, no sound, save the faint slapping of halyards on masts, and the snapping of sails, borne on the wind blowing in from the river.

"What would she say?" he wondered.

When Ashley told Beau he intended to marry again, Beau clapped him on the back enthusiastically, and told him he was very happy. To Beau, Evangeline was more like a much older sister than a stepmother. No one could replace his mother.

"Mother would want you to be happy," he told Ashley.

As he eased back into the bed, Ashley hoped Beau was right. He lay awake for awhile before falling into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**The usual disclaimer applies, GWTW and all its characters are the property of Margaret Mitchell's estate. Thanks once again to Blogmistress Bugsie for her discerning eye, and Happy Birthday to leo ladies, SJ and Iso!**

Part II – Marie-Ange Desormeaux

_Be to her, Persephone,  
__All the things I might not be:  
__Take her head upon your knee.  
__She that was so proud and wild,  
__Flippant, arrogant and free,  
__She that had no need of me,  
__Is a little lonely child  
__Lost in Hell,—Persephone,  
__Take her head upon your knee:  
__Say to her, "My dear, my dear,  
__It is not so dreadful here."_

-Edna St. Vincent Millay

A low rumble of thunder rattled the windowpanes awakening Marie-Ange Desormeaux from a restless sleep. There was so much to do today, Evangeline's wedding day! Lists of tasks kept appearing in her dreams. Reflexively, she reached for the opposite side of the bed, and startled fully awake when she touched a warm shoulder.

"Nyuh?" was the sleepy response to her touch.

"Go back to sleep," Marie-Ange murmured.

The shoulder belonged to her sister, Juliette, a wedding guest, not Louis. After three and a half years, it seemed odd to Marie-Ange that she should still awaken reaching for him. She supposed she developed the habit during those years when she would check his side of the bed to make sure he had come back home after tending to the sick during the night. Yet, today, of all days, their only daughter's wedding day, she missed him most.

She slipped quietly from the bed, so as not to disturb her sleeping sister, and went to the window. Pushing back the curtains, she could see the wind picking up, whipping branches around, and sending a frothy shower of tender, pale petals to the ground. Thunderheads rolled across a leaden sky, barely starting to lighten with the breaking dawn. The storm was just beginning.

Marie-Ange glanced at the clock on her mantle; it was six thirty. The wedding was due to start at six this evening, to be followed by a reception with a buffet and dancing in her home. There was so much to do in the intervening hours. Hopefully, this storm would blow over quickly.

She grabbed a robe off the hook behind the door, and left her bedroom. She stealthily descended the back servants' staircase to the kitchen. The cook and a scullery maid were busy baking, making biscuits and bread.

"Morning Miz Marie-Ange. Coffee's ready," said the cook.

"Thank you, Sylvia. Is anyone else up yet?"

"No, ma'am. You's the first."

She poured a cup and took it into the family dining room, off the kitchen, enjoying the quiet and solitude. That would change soon. Sixteen people had spent the night here, including Ashley's two sisters, his brother-in-law, four nieces and nephews, and an elderly aunt, as well as Juliette. Then, of course, there was Scarlett and Ella, and three of her own four sons. Every bed was occupied, and only Evangeline did not have to share her sleeping quarters.

Marie-Ange mulled over her houseguests, particularly, her daughter's soon–to-be-sisters-in-law, as she absently stirred her coffee. The younger one, Honey, was warm and affectionate, while the elder, India, was cold and forbidding. India seemed to bristle in the presence of Honey's husband. The man didn't have a smooth, mannerly way about him, but he was a gentleman, by birth and upbringing. Honey's four children were boisterous and energetic. The noise and activity seemed to aggravate India. Marie-Ange regretted that the weather would prevent the children from playing outdoors. They needed some outlet for their energies, and she had planned to send them into Lafayette Square to play croquet. If the foul weather held, they would be underfoot all day.

Neither of Ashley's sisters seemed to have an affinity for Scarlett, even though they had grown up together. It had something to do with girlhood beaux. What foolishness! Marie-Ange felt it best to leave the past behind. Clearly, the cold sister, India, was not inclined to forgive or forget anything. She seemed to take an inordinate amount of pleasure from Scarlett's discomfort at unexpectedly meeting her ex-husband the previous afternoon. Marie-Ange had been afraid they would come to blows until Ashley intervened. He abhorred conflict, and went to great lengths to mollify both women.

His propensity to act as a peacemaker was a trait that Marie-Ange greatly admired. Her initial impression of him had not been so favorable. She sensed that Evangeline had been attracted to him because of his air of bewilderment. He acted as though he was lost in an alien land, and Evangeline treated him as another stray to pamper and protect, just as she used to do with puppies and kittens when she was a child. Worse still, Marie-Ange suspected that Ashley suffered from the gnawing loneliness that afflicts the widowed, a feeling with which she was well acquainted, and that he merely sought succor from Evangeline. Yet, as his affection for her grew, another side of Ashley became evident. He was an idealist, and a gentleman, unafraid to stand his ground with Scarlett over a point of ethics in his business dealings. He was a good temperamental fit with Evangeline. She could be bold, as well as sensitive, and Ashley would support her emotionally, but not be overwhelmed by her. In turn, Evangeline possessed the common sense Scarlett insisted Ashley lacked.

Marie-Ange remembered telling Scarlett why she approved of the match.

"_Evangeline will never replace your late sister-in-law in Ashley's affections. She understands this. Instead, she gives him a precious gift. A young wife gives her husband back his youth and makes him feel like more of a man. You've been married to men much older than yourself, you must surely have noticed this."_

_Scarlett looked stricken, her expression, a mask of conflicting feelings._

_She doesn't know what I'm talking about, Marie-Ange thought sadly. Was this part of the reason for the failure of her marriage? How could a marriage succeed if a woman did not understand the nature of the man to whom she was wed?_

Scarlett never said much about her husband, only that he'd left her, and later, that he'd divorced her. Marie-Ange knew about the death of their daughter, and thought that this tragedy must have played a significant role in the dissolution of their union. Scarlett refused to speak of any of these painful episodes; yet, yesterday's encounter brought all the mistakes of the past into sharp focus, leaving her tense and unhappy.

A bell sounded in the kitchen. Marie-Ange decided to save those thoughts for later. Someone upstairs was calling for Cora Lou, the maid, signaling the awakening of the household. There was too much to do right now.

ooOOoo

In that drowsy state between sleep and wakefulness, Rhett lay in his bed, listening to the storm, tensing in expectation of a tempest. The familiar sounds were like a symphony, and, as the storm came closer, he imagined the sequence of rumbles of distant thunder increasing in tempo, growing in intensity to loud clashes, timed the crescendo of sounds to the flashes of lightning, and anticipated the concomitant increase in wind and rainfall. The missing elements were the pitch of the boat as the sea grew rough, the waves cresting higher and the troughs deepening, as the wind lashed the sails and lines. "Not a hurricane, too early in the year. No, not a hurricane," he thought through the blur of sleep. Besides, the _Saoirse_ was safely berthed on the Savannah River, and he lay in a soft bed on solid ground in his sister's home.

Ensconced in this sheltered place, as his awareness grew, the tension drained away, and his thoughts strayed to yesterday's strange encounter in the tearoom with Wilkes, his bride-to-be, her mother, and Scarlett. He'd learned two surprising things about his ex-wife during that uncomfortable meeting: the Desormeaux family, highly esteemed in Savannah society, had embraced Scarlett as one of their own, and she, apparently, had relinquished her hold on Wilkes. Her behavior ran contrary to his presumptions about her at the time he left her. Surely she couldn't have changed that much. Or maybe she had been changing, and he hadn't been aware of it. At that point in time, his life had been a living hell, and the only means of deliverance he could envision was the radical action of divorce. On reflection, maybe Alvin Winters had been right. Maybe he had come to regret his choice, but the fact remained, it was his choice, made with cold-blooded certainty. If he had regrets that was his cross to bear.

_The first time Rhett came back to Atlanta he wasn't sure he could enter the house, Scarlett's house, that monument to bad taste built with his ill-gotten funds in an attempt to win her love. A fruitless gesture as it turned out. When the cab stopped at the carriage block, his chest started to tighten. After stepping into the front hall, in his mind he could hear the echoes of the past, the soft patter of little feet running across the thickly padded carpet to greet him, and a shrill, childish voice crying out: "Daddy! You're home!" He expected to see her round the corner and come flying into his arms. But, of course, she didn't, and she never would again. His chest was so tight by this time, he thought he couldn't breathe, but he did. With a sick sense of déjà vu, he realized Scarlett was standing at the top of the stairs, her hand lightly curved around the carved lion on the newel post, watching him with hungry cat's eyes._

"_You're home." _

_He nodded to her. "For a brief visit."_

_The pain of sleeping in the room he'd once shared with Bonnie was unbearable. The memory of her lying pale and lifeless on her little bed haunted him. Sometimes in the night, he thought he heard her calling to him for reassurance. Equally disturbing was Scarlett's behavior. Just as he had once watched carefully for any telltale signs of a change in her affections, she now watched him. The combination was more than he could bear. He lasted five days before he fled to Charleston, seeking refuge. _

_He decided to explore his options for release. Rhett discreetly inquired at his lawyer's office as to the feasibility of a divorce. Attorney Alvin Winters leaned back in his chair, hands folded over his ample midsection, tapping his extended index fingers together._

"_You'll be ruined if you go through with it."_

"_Ruined? I've been a social outcast in this city before. What of it?"_

"_No invitations to the St. Cecilia Ball." Winters scrutinized Rhett, searching for the chink in his armor, the tender spot that, when poked, would cause him to flinch. "No political ambitions?"_

_He snorted derisively. "Political ambitions? You're thinking of my brother! I'm not that cynical. Have you nothing substantive to offer in the way of suggestion?" Rhett was becoming impatient with Winters' concern for his reputation._

"_Don't do it. You'll come to regret the decision."_

"_I think not."_

"_Any chance you'd change your mind? Try to reconcile?"_

"_No," Rhett stated forcefully._

"_Any children?"_

_He paused. "Hers, not mine. Mine," he dropped his voice, and gazed off into the distance for a moment before returning his focus on Alvin Winters' pale, doughy face. "My child is dead, and so is the marriage. I want out."_

"_Legally, it's not possible in South Carolina. How far west are you willing to go?"_

"_West?"_

"_The states with the most lenient divorce laws are west of the Mississippi. Now Indiana is still rather flexible, although, after the war the residency requirement increased from six months to two years." _

"_I could manage two years."_

"_You'd need to divest yourself of any out of state assets."_

"_Such as titling the house in her name."_

"_Exactly. I've arranged one other Indiana divorce for a client. Jeffersonville, just across the river from Louisville, in the southeastern corner of the state, is a two-day train trip from here. Not as inconvenient as going to one of the western territories, or California."_

_Rhett nodded his head with a look of speculative interest. "It's worth a trip to check out the feasibility of it."_

_He left Attorney Winters' office that morning with a renewed sense of purpose in life._

_In time Rhett would make the circuit from Jeffersonville to Atlanta to Charleston, and then back to Jeffersonville, about four times a year. Each time he left Atlanta, he counted the number of visits remaining until he could free himself from the bondage of the past. The last time he left Atlanta he felt at peace. He had finally loosed the moorings keeping him tied to an existence that was choking the life out of him. _

_Once freed, he fell in love with his first mistress all over again—the sea._

Loud banging at the door of his room fully roused Rhett.

Not waiting for their uncle to bid them to enter, Peter and Adele, Rosemary's six-year-old twins, came bounding in and launched themselves onto the bed. "Uncle Rhett, Uncle Rhett! Wake up! Mother's making waffles for breakfast!"

He wrapped his arms around his niece and nephew, fingers snaking around their midsections, and started to tickle them. Laughter erupted from the squirming mass of flailing limbs and wriggling forms he held close. Held them close until he was unintentionally smacked in the face by one of the children.

"Good morning to you, you little ruffians!"

Adele tugged at his arm while pleading. "Get up, Uncle Rhett! We want to play with you!"

"Please, Uncle Rhett! Mother said you'd show us your yacht," Peter chimed in.

"Not in the rain. You two go downstairs so I can get dressed. Go pester Alex." He swatted gently at Peter's bottom. "Go! And don't eat all the waffles," he warned both children in mock threat.

Reluctantly they slid off the bed, raced each other to the door, and then bolted for the stairs.

Rhett shook his head as if to clear the last vestiges of sleep, ran his fingers through his hair, and breathed deeply. Life was so much better now, now that he had reclaimed his place in the land of the living. Yet, the dreams he'd nurtured prior to his contentious marriage, had never come to fruition, and now, late in his middle years he desired a companion. Strangely, he again found himself in the position of envying Ashley Wilkes, not for possessing Scarlett's affections, but for having found love a second time. Stranger still that the woman his sister had attempted to pair him with led him back to Scarlett. Could fate or the gods be so cruel? He still felt an abiding affection for her, but his feelings were tempered with reluctance to revisit the past.

ooOOoo

The smells of freshly baked biscuits and coffee wafted up the backstairs from the kitchen, but Scarlett had no appetite. She lay in bed listening to the storm outside the house, feeling a storm raging inside her. "It's bad luck," she thought. Marrying on Saturday, during Lent, and now this storm added to the ill omens, but the most potent harbinger of marital disaster, in Scarlett's mind, was the unexpected appearance of Rhett Butler.

Last night, when India started to cackle about the embarrassing encounter in the tearoom, Scarlett wanted to lunge at her and scratch her eyes out. Vicious witch! She'd have to go through the whole day, in the same house with India, acting polite out of deference to Marie-Ange, and then endure the presence at the wedding of the close-knit network of Wilkes cousins: Hamiltons, Burrs, Whitemans, and Winfields. With Rhett in attendance, inevitably gossip would erupt, and all of Savannah would learn of her scandalous past and current state of dishonor. The fragile social acceptance she had gained here would then disappear. More bad luck! At least she could count on Marie-Ange to stand by her no matter what; she'd proved that on more than one occasion.

_Scarlett first met Marie-Ange and Louis Desormeaux at her grandfather's home. The family was celebrating his birthday, and many people Scarlett didn't know attended the elegant reception. She moved with ease through the crowd of unknown cousins and neighbors, smiling and exuding her unique charm. From across the room she spied a woman sitting at the piano. It looked as though she wanted to play. The man standing at her side caressed her shoulder, and the woman smiled adoringly at him._

"_They're in love," Scarlett thought enviously. "Despite their age," she added cattily. She didn't really see the attraction. The man was slightly paunchy, balding, and had a pointy little beard. The woman was far more attractive, and stylishly dressed. Her dark eyes were warm, and she had a pleasant smile. She laughed easily. _

"_Play, my angel," he said._

_The woman fingered the keys lightly at first, and then began to play in earnest. Scarlett didn't know the name of the piece, Beethoven's sonata 22, opus 54, but recognized the music. People began to crowd around the piano. When she finished, a cry of "Brava!" went up, and the guests applauded her. The woman stood and bowed, graciously acknowledging her audience. Scarlett lingered as the others began to move away, and caught the woman's eye. _

_The woman let out a small gasp of surprise. "Ellen!" she cried._

_Scarlett was taken aback. "Why did you say that?"_

"_I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, however, you bear a strong resemblance to a dear friend of mine, one I haven't seen since my girlhood."_

"_My mother's name was Ellen."_

_Scarlett hadn't noticed her aunts, Pauline and Eulalie, closing in on the piano. Beady-eyed and dressed in black, they resembled a pair of carrion crows circling their prey. They flanked Scarlett._

"_Marie-Ange, watch what you say," Pauline warned in an ominous tone._

_Eulalie placed a hand on Scarlett's arm, and added, "Some things are better left alone."_

_The negative reaction this woman elicited from her aunts made Scarlett wonder just what was going on, and piqued her curiosity to know more about the unknown pianist. If Eulalie and Pauline disliked her, then, Scarlett rationalized, she must be worth knowing._

"_We haven't even been introduced," Scarlett said, simpering smugly at Pauline._

_Reluctantly, Pauline made the introduction. "Scarlett, this is Marie-Ange Desormeaux, our cousin. Her father, Jacques, was grandpère's brother." She then gestured to the man, standing behind Marie-Ange, watching with detached amusement. "This is her husband, Dr. Louis Desormeaux."_

_Dr. Desormeaux bowed, and kissed Scarlett's hand. "Enchanté, Madame."_

"_Marie-Ange, Louis, this is our niece, Scarlett Butler," Pauline said._

_Eulalie added grimly, "Ellen's daughter."_

_Marie-Ange smiled warmly at Scarlett, as she took her hands, and looked directly into her eyes. "I knew it had to be. I saw the resemblance immediately. Your mother wrote me after your birth. Is she well?"_

"_She died during the war," Pauline said coldly. "Typhoid."_

_Marie-Ange's eyes misted. "God rest her." She then invited Scarlett to sit with her. "Tell me about yourself."_

"_Why thank you, I'd like that." Scarlett glared at her aunts. "I'd like to have a __**private**__ conversation."_

_Marie-Ange and her husband exchanged looks of suppressed amusement as Pauline and Eulalie backed away cautiously._

"_Those two peahens haven't left me alone since we left Charleston."_

"_Do you live in Charleston?" Marie-Ange asked, eyes bright with interest._

"_Oh no," Scarlett laughed. "I live in Atlanta. I was visiting in Charleston."_

_Scarlett had gone to Charleston to find Rhett. When she went to the home he shared with his mother, she was curtly informed that Captain Butler was out of town on business, no whereabouts given. The ostensible reason for her trip now a failure, she accepted Aunt Pauline and Aunt Eulalie's invitation to accompany them to Savannah for the party. This fortuitous choice brought Scarlett together with one of her mother's oldest friends and a kinswoman, one who would accept her as she was and embrace her out of the love she bore for Ellen Robillard._

Ella was awake and moving about the room. She had finished washing up, and asked her mother to brush her hair. The girl took a seat on the vanity bench, as Scarlett picked up her brush and distractedly began to pull it through Ella's thick mass of wavy ginger locks. She jerked hard against a snarl.

"Oww!" Ella cried out as she pulled away from her mother. "Stop! I'll get Cora Lou to dress my hair. She knows how to be gentle."

"Oh, sit still and stop squawking! Cora Lou is busy with the guests. Can't you hear? She's drawing a bath for someone," said Scarlett as she again tried to yank the brush through the snarl.

"Stop! You're hurting me! If you keep doing that you're going to pull my hair out at the roots!"

"Ella, if you don't sit still and stop complaining I'm going to turn you over my knee, and take this brush to your bottom," Scarlett threatened.

Ella jumped up off the bench, pulled the brush from her mother's hand, and fled the room. "You'll have to catch me first," she said over her shoulder as the door closed.

Once out of her room, she skittered across the hall to the door of Evangeline's room and rapped softly, two short and one long knock, then opened the door and ducked in before her mother could catch up to her. Ella reckoned she probably made her mother's blood boil in rage after her last comment. She didn't realize Scarlett was now sitting on the vanity bench, dispiritedly chewing her lip in consternation.

Marie-Ange and Evangeline had pulled the muslin cover off, and were examining the wedding gown, picked up from the dressmaker's yesterday afternoon on the way home from the tearoom.

The cream colored silk satin gown had three quarter length sleeves with rosettes around the cuffs and around the pleated collar. The vee front bodice was fitted, and opened in the front with crochet covered dorset buttons. In the back, the bodice was princess line with pleated edging around the hem and up the sides. The skirt front was ruched and ruffled, and the front hem was edged with two rows of knife pleats.

Ella's breath caught in a short gasp of exclamation. "Oh, Evie! It's beautiful!" Her face had softened in dreamy contemplation of the romance of it all. It fed her young girl's fantasy of marriage, and made her imagine one day donning such a dress to marry the man of her dreams.

Evangeline turned from the gown, and beckoned Ella to come closer. She stroked Ella's hair, and pulled her hand back in shock when she felt the snarl.

"Ella! What happened to your hair?"

"I asked Mother to brush it, and she made this snarl worse," Ella pouted. "I think she's still mad about that fight she had with Aunt India last night."

Evangeline and her mother exchanged glances over Ella's head. Scarlett and Ella tended to clash easily. To compensate for the lack of a harmonious relationship between mother and daughter, Marie-Ange and Evangeline doted on the plain, awkward girl. Since she'd come to school in Savannah, Ella blossomed from a shy, self-conscious child into a warm, friendly adolescent on the cusp of womanhood.

"I'll fix it for you." Evangeline took the brush from Ella's hand and began to work it gently through Ella's luxuriant mane, her best feature. Her thick ginger-colored hair with its red-gold highlights, shined like spun gold in the sunlight. Evangeline always told Ella how much she admired, even envied her, for her beautiful hair.

Marie-Ange stroked Ella's cheek gently. "Your mother was quite distraught last evening. I'll go talk to her."

As she left Evangeline's room, she thought back to the look on Scarlett's face when she first saw her ex-husband in the tearoom. It looked as though her heart was breaking all over again. Marie-Ange understood. She'd had her heart broken at a very young age, and that same loss bound her inextricably to Scarlett. She decided she would move heaven and earth to make things right. Hopefully it wasn't too late.


	4. MarieAnge's Secret

**The usual disclaimer applies, I own nothing. Sorry it took so long for this to finally get uploaded. Many thanks to Blogmistress Bugsie!**

Marie-Ange stood with her back pressed against the door to Evangeline's room. She made a moue of consternation, and tapped the index and middle fingers of her right hand lightly against her lips for a moment. How to proceed?

Initially, she considered the tearoom encounter with Rhett Butler to be something that must be borne as gracefully as possible, and then forgotten. Apparently this was not possible for Scarlett. Her tempestuous emotions since that meeting revealed something raw and vulnerable within. All the unresolved emotions, and frustrated desires she refused to discuss seemed to be bubbling up. Marie-Ange decided she must find a way to make Scarlett examine herself, to release these feelings, and choose an acceptable course of action. This day would become one long string of tumultuous encounters if something were not done to stop it, now.

Her memory stirred, and she was reminded of a promise made long ago.

"_Take good care of Ellen, my little angel," Philippe said, smiling. "I'm counting on you!" He patted her head affectionately, then turned to leave, picking up his valise and heading for the front door._

"_Philippe, please don't go!" Marie-Ange cried out in anguish, tugging at his coat sleeve._

_He stopped at the door, poised to open it. "Don't cry. Be brave little one." He smiled at the girl, and again gently patted her curls. "A man needs to have an adventure! I won't be gone for too long. Now, dry your eyes. That's a good girl." _

_Marie-Ange sniffed and smiled bravely for her brother. Run to Ellen, she thought, I must run to Ellen._

It seemed to Marie-Ange that love and loss went hand-in-hand, at least in her experience. Both Philippe and Ellen had left her life forever at nearly the same moment in time, and she grieved those losses for many years. Neither respect for the dead, nor consideration of Eulalie and Pauline's thinly veiled threats restrained her from talking. She had not divulged the secrets of her heart, at least not until now, when events forced her hand, because she was circumspect by nature. She vowed to take care of Ellen in the parting pact made with her brother. Her beloved brother was gone forever, but Ellen, by extension, was still here in her daughter and granddaughter. Scarlett was headstrong and could be outspoken, yet, Marie-Ange saw so much of Ellen in her as well: her eyes, her smile, her charm, her gaiety, but most of all, her sadness over love lost. All three of Ellen's daughters had suffered disappointment in love, and the resulting heartache. "So much like their mother," Marie-Ange thought, shaking her head.

She descended the servants' stairs on swift feet. When she reached the kitchen, she directed the cook's assistant to prepare coffee service for two and to follow her upstairs with the tray.

ooOOoo

Scarlett, sitting at the vanity, peered at her reflection. How she'd aged since her own and Ashley's first weddings! Oh, her looks hadn't changed so much, but the tenderness of youth, and the sense of hopeful optimism, of knowing she could bend life to her will, most of the time, were gone. She had survived the worst life could hand a woman, in style even. Long ago, in a past dimly remembered, she had been the belle of five counties, and now she was probably reviled in those same five counties because Rhett had seen fit to cut her loose in order to purge his own devils. She felt a heaviness in the pit of her being, mingled love and hate. Why in the name of God did Rhett have to come here? His presence was the embodiment of her marital failure, sure to cause gossip among the sanctimonious Wilkes clan, led by the fanatic India. But then, wasn't that always the way of it? He'd show up at the most unexpected times, and everything would go wrong!

She pulled herself back from this interior monologue and snatched up her brush from the vanity. She tapped it a few times against her palm, then, began to vigorously brush her hair.

"No one is going to get the best of me! No ma'am! I'm going to enter that church with my head held high, and Rhett, and India and all those other aggravating Wilkes cousins could just go to Halifax!"

Scarlett smiled approvingly at the silken sheen of her long straight hair. She'd need to call for Prissy to come dress it for her. Maybe Prissy could take care of Ella's hair while she was at it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. She hoped it wasn't Aunt Pitty seeking her out so early in the day. Her vision was dimming, and out of a need for security, she clung fiercely to Scarlett when they were together. This, of course, also infuriated India, who felt she was far more worthy of Aunt Pitty's trust. When Wade and Beau were around, Scarlett would pass off care of the old lady to them, but they were with Ashley this morning. This day was definitely not starting well!

"Scarlett?"

It was Marie-Ange. Scarlett was flooded with relief, as she opened the door.

"May I join you? I brought you coffee." Marie-Ange smiled brightly as she waved the young girl carrying the tray into the room. She pointed to a low table between two wing chairs, and told her to leave the tray there.

"Thank you. Please, do come in."

As the serving girl scurried out, Marie-Ange closed the door behind her and joined Scarlett in the sitting area next to the window.

Scarlett glanced out the window. A steady rain was falling, dripping from the eaves. "What terrible weather! It's bad luck for the wedding." She turned from the window and began to stir sugar and cream into the cup of coffee that Marie-Ange had poured for her. "That, and it's Lent," Scarlett muttered.

Marie-Ange gave Scarlett's hand a reassuring pat. "I prefer to see the good here! The rain will replenish the cistern that will surely be depleted by all these guests taking baths! I'm sure the weather will clear by this evening. As I've told you before, ours is a low church; we do not forbid weddings during Lent. Evangeline always said she wanted to be married when the azaleas were in bloom. Besides, you know that she and Ashley plan to spend Easter in Paris."

Marie-Ange sipped her coffee, and looked over the rim of the cup at Scarlett. Her speculative look made Scarlett a little uncomfortable.

"Have you ever noticed how certain traits or characteristics run in families?"

Scarlett looked at her cousin and wondered what on earth she was on about.

"No. Whatever do you mean?"

"My two oldest children have been drawn to medicine, have a passion for healing, much like their father and his brother. I think that runs in their line, and while it pains me to be separated from Jean-Louis, and now, soon, Evangeline, I understand what draws them, both to the practice of medicine, and to seek to work with their Uncle Antonin in Paris."

"Um," Scarlett murmured in reply. Her eyes wandered to the window. What earthly reason did Marie-Ange have for bringing this up, especially today? Didn't she have better things to worry about? Besides, the thought of caring for the sick repelled Scarlett. How could a person find that sort of work fulfilling?

"You seem to have the talent for mercantile success, much like some of your O'Hara kin here in Savannah."

Scarlett's eyes narrowed as she shifted her focus from the window to her cousin. It did not sit well with her when anyone openly criticized her business activities. Moreover, Marie-Ange of all people should be down on bended knee thanking God that Scarlett was as successful as she was. Louis had left a small estate, and Marie-Ange barely scraped by on that, plus the money she earned teaching piano lessons. Scarlett paid her handsomely for Ella's room and board. She did not know what to expect from this turn in the conversation, but listened more acutely as Marie-Ange continued.

"If I may be so bold, I believe we have a streak of notoriety in the Robillard line. At least that has been my experience of it, to defy convention. Mine and Evangeline's." Marie-Ange looked directly at Scarlett with a kindly expression, and spoke softly. "Yours and your mother's as well."

"My mother?" Scarlett exclaimed in bewilderment. "She was a great lady, like my grandmother."

"Oh, indeed! But surely you've heard that duels were fought over Aunt Solange, and that she was married three times, just as you have been?"

"Yes! Mammy told me about Grandmother Solange, but my mother was different. She had only one husband!"

"One husband, and one great love."

This comment puzzled Scarlett. Her mother and father were not demonstrative in front of their daughters. In fact, now that Scarlett thought about it, her mother was downright cool to her father. There was no doubting Gerald's deep love for his wife, especially given his reaction to her death. But Ellen… her feelings were enigmatic, hardly a relationship Scarlett would characterize as a great love.

"I mean no slander on her good name, but you don't know about our youth, and the secrets we shared." Marie-Ange smiled, a look of bittersweet remembrance passing over her features.

"Secrets?"

"Yes," she sighed. "Secrets." With that, she began to reminisce.

_I was born on Christmas Eve, the night the angels sang to announce the birth of the Savior, Mary's son. For that reason my parents named me Marie-Ange. I was the youngest of six children. My oldest brother, Philippe, immediately fell in love with me, and we developed a very close relationship. We were the bookends, so to speak, the oldest and youngest children in the family. He called me _mon cadeau_, my gift. He loved to carry me around on his shoulders. I swear my feet never touched the ground for the first three years of my life. _

_When I was four and a half years old, your grandmother, my Aunt Solange, died of a fever. Ellen was devastated by the loss. She was seven years old at the time. After the funeral, she came back to our house, and my mother held her as she wept. Mother told her that she was welcome to spend as much time in our home as she liked. Uncle Pierre was in seclusion with Eulalie and Pauline hovering over him. As the months went by, Ellen and I spent many happy hours together. _

_Philippe was ten years older than I, handsome and charming. I loved to be with him, but as he got older, he sought the pleasures a young man desires, and had little time for childish games. Ellen and I would spy on him, watching for him to come in at night. When my parents had parties, she and I would hide at the top of the stairs and watch the ladies and gentlemen below. There was an alcove, hidden beneath the staircase, we could see from our vantage point, and often we saw Philippe pull a young woman aside there and steal kisses. Once, he saw us and winked at us, as if to say he knew we were watching him. Our silliness made him laugh. _

_The summer Ellen turned fourteen, she put up her hair and let down her skirts. I was not yet twelve, still a child, and no longer her boon companion. She continued to spend a great deal of time in our home, but now her attention was focused elsewhere—on Philippe. She had blossomed into a young beauty, and he was well aware of her charms. _

_By now, he had developed a reputation as a rake, a man about town. This grieved my parents greatly. They hoped to see him make a suitable match and settle down. I heard the adults say he enjoyed gambling as well, and that he was rapidly depleting his allowance in order to pay his debts. Father threatened to cut him off if he did not amend his habits. _

_During a Christmas party, just before my thirteenth birthday, after I was sent to bed, I sat alone at the top of the stairs, watching the guests below. I could hear whispered entreaties, and soft giggles coming from the hidden alcove and moved to get a better look. It was Philippe and Ellen! He held a sprig of mistletoe above her head and was doing his best to steal kisses from her. She resisted, then, capitulated. He called her 'mon cadeau,' formerly his pet name for me. The two people I loved best now had eyes only for each other. I was crushed._

"Mother?" Scarlett thought, "behaving like… like I did when I was a belle? Could this be true?"

_I watched silently as their surreptitious courtship continued through the winter into early spring. I said nothing to anyone of what I saw: stolen kisses, whispered promises. I would watch Philippe slip out the garden gate, cross the lane and pass into Uncle Pierre's garden where he would meet Ellen. _

_The game was up in late February. Eulalie and Pauline had long suspected what was going on. Their suspicions were confirmed when they found a note Philippe wrote to Ellen suggesting they elope if Uncle Pierre would not give his consent to their marriage. One evening a few days later, they happened to catch sight of Philippe as he entered the garden. He met Ellen under the rose arbor in the far corner. There they observed him making love to her, kissing her palms, her lips, holding her close. Scandalized, they told Uncle Pierre everything. By the time he reached the garden, they were gone. _

_Uncle Pierre marched his daughters, military style, like the old general he was, up the front steps of our home, rather than through the familiar garden gate. He was angry and loudly demanded to see my father. The maid ushered him and the girls into the parlor, and then sought Papa. Mother met them, and tried to calm him. Uncle Pierre was shouting, waving the love note. Ellen was crying, begging him to stop. I was sitting in the library, reading, when the commotion started, and peeped around the doorframe, timidly trying to see what was going on. Papa brought Philippe to the parlor for the confrontation. Once the door closed, I left the library and looked through the keyhole at the scene within. Eulalie and Pauline were cowering in the corner. Ellen sat weeping on the settee next to my mother who had put her arm around her. Uncle Pierre, full of wrath, was shaking his fist at Philippe, while my father restrained Philippe bodily from flying at Uncle Pierre. I opened the parlor door a crack. At the sound of the latch clicking open, the shouting ceased. All eyes were on me. My mother rose and gently led Ellen and me to the library._

"_Men can be stupid! This is how wars start!" my mother exclaimed. She gave Ellen a handkerchief, and told her to dry her eyes, that all would be well. "After all, we are not the Montagues and Capulets, we are Robillards."_

_Shortly, Uncle Pierre broke into the room and commanded Ellen to stand. As he dragged her away, down the hall toward the front door, Philippe strained against my father's grasp to go to her. _

"_Philippe! Philippe!" she cried, holding her arms out to him._

Marie-Ange's words and that name caught Scarlett's notice. A memory long suppressed sprang up from her subconscious, Mammy and Dilcey telling her about her mother's dying hours, her last words:

"She think she a lil gal back in Savannah. … [W]'en the light shine in the winder, it look lak it wake Miss Ellen up and she set right up in bed and cry out loud, time and agin: 'Feeleep! Feeleep!'"

"_Quiet, young woman!" Uncle Pierre commanded. _

_Philippe pressed his index and middle fingers to his lips and turned them toward Ellen's tear-stained face in a final parting salute. "Fear not, we shall be together!"_

_Uncle Pierre then spun on Philippe. "If you touch my daughter again, I will kill you!"_

_My father shook his head in sorrow. "This is my problem now. Go home, Pierre."_

_The next day they sent Philippe away. We never saw him again; he died in a barroom brawl about a month later. Not too long after that we were informed that Ellen was to be married to an Irishman named O'Hara. We were not invited to the wedding, nor would Ellen receive me prior to the nuptials._

_The last time I saw Ellen, my mother and I were standing under the portico, looking out on Oglethorpe Square as the carriage bearing the newlyweds pulled away. She looked right at us, and though she smiled, hers were the saddest eyes I'd ever seen as she silently waved good-bye._

"So this is the mystery of the unnamed sadness that my mother overcame," Scarlett thought. "But she was a great lady, not like me… Yet, she _was_ like me, she married to forget her lover." It was all too confusing to contemplate. "I'll think about this tomorrow, after the wedding."

Marie-Ange finished her story, and sat in quiet contemplation, then added a post-script. "I saw those same sad eyes again yesterday afternoon in the tearoom."

Scarlett's mouth fell open and she let out a small gasp of surprise.

"You see, I think perhaps heartache is also in your line," Marie-Ange added quietly. "I will help you in any way possible. I was never able to assist your mother, and I feel I owe you this debt. Do you understand?"

Scarlett shook her head yes, then no. "I don't know," she finally said. She sat numbly fiddling with the fringe on the tie of her dressing gown. "I was a fool. I thought I loved someone, while real love passed me by. Now I live with the mark of that infamy."

"Would you go to him if he acknowledged the error?"

What a stupid question, Scarlett thought. As if Rhett would admit error and try to repair the past! "I would buy ice from the devil first!"

"Love has no pride, my dear."

"Hmph! That may be, but _I_ do!" However, Scarlett had to acknowledge Marie-Ange had a point. Pride had dealt her marriage to Rhett a grievous blow.

"Don't let the past rob you of happiness, that's all I'm trying to tell you." She then smoothly steered the conversation in a different direction. "Ella tells me she likes it when I tell her stories about my girlhood. It makes her feel at home here in Savannah, and closer to her grandmother though she never knew her."

"Surely you haven't told her that particular story!"

Marie-Ange laughed. "Good heavens, no!" She became solemn and thoughtful again for a moment. "I never saw your mother again. I wrote to her the following year, in the summer, hoping to heal the breach. She wrote back telling me that she had what every woman dreams of: an adoring husband; a beautiful, healthy baby girl; a fine home; and good neighbors. Her duties kept her busy from morning 'til night, and so she discouraged me from writing to her again." Marie-Ange stretched toward the window, pulling aside the lace curtain to get a good look. "The rain is slowing down." She smiled ruefully. "I always wondered if Ellen ever thought of us again. I suppose I'll never know."

As Marie-Ange rose from her chair, Scarlett reached for her arm to slow her progress. "She did."

"Did what?"

"She did remember. The night I came home from Atlanta, after Beau was born, after Sherman… The most terrible night of my life, I came home seeking refuge and peace, only to find out my mother was dead. The two servants who took care of her told me she had been delirious, she thought she was a girl in Savannah again, and just before she died…" Scarlett's words caught in her throat. "Just before she died, she called out 'Philippe! Philippe!' I didn't know who that was or what he meant to her. Until now."

Marie-Ange clasped Scarlett to her breast. "Dear God!" she gasped.

Just then, there was a frantic knocking at the door. The aura of emotion brought on by their conversation shattered, and the delicate filament drawing both women toward the past was abruptly broken.

"Scarlett? Scarlett? Are you in there?" It was Aunt Pittypat.

Scarlett rose slowly and opened the door.

Pittypat bustled into the room. "Is it true, Scarlett?"

"Is what true?"

"India says that awful Captain Butler is going to be at the wedding this evening! Oh, tell me it's not true! If it is, I shall faint!"

Scarlett and Marie-Ange exchanged a glance. Marie-Ange's look communicated her love and steadfast loyalty.

Scarlett patted the elderly woman's plump arm. "He is, but we'll be fine Auntie! I promise."


	5. The Wedding

Part II - Section 3

The Wedding

**The usual disclaimer applies. All characters from GWTW belong to MM's estate, I'm just borrowing them for some fun. Thanks go to my trusty beta, Bugsie.**

The early morning storm had abated, although the sky remained overcast. The lawn in Lafayette Square was soggy from the soaking rain, preventing the children from playing outside. Instead, Marie-Ange galvanized her houseguests, especially the youngest among them, into action. She had raised five children of her own, and knew what needed to be done to avert chaos.

"Idle hands are the devil's tools," Marie-Ange remarked blithely as she gave one of Honey's children a pile of freshly ironed linen napkins to fold and stack neatly on the sideboard in the dining room.

Scarlett volunteered to go to the church to make sure the florist had delivered the flowers. It got her out of the house, and she was glad for the opportunity to be alone. Aunt Pitty was starting to get on her nerves with her incessant chatter.

Scarlett's earlier conversation with Marie-Ange kept coming back to her despite the fact that she didn't want to dwell on it at the moment. What would Mother say about the twists and turns of her life? The thought ricocheted through Scarlett's mind, leaving her off-balance: which Mother? Miss Ellen Robillard of Savannah who fell in love with her wild cousin, Philippe, and nearly eloped with him? Or Mrs. Gerald O'Hara of Tara, the sad-eyed lady, a gentle shell of the passionate girl she had once been? The only positive consequence of her ruminations on the conversation was that it kept her mind off Rhett and their coming encounter at the wedding.

Rather than wait for the stable boy to hitch horses to the carriage, Scarlett decided to walk the short distance up Drayton Street to the Independent Presbyterian Church just off Chippewa Square on Bull Street. Azaleas were in bloom everywhere. The intensity of the colors of the flowers, and the greenness of the grass were so much more vibrant after the rain. The sight of rain-freshened blossoms helped clear her mind of needless worries and lifted her spirits.

When she arrived, the florist's wagon was already there, and one of the deacons had unlocked the church to allow entrance. As Scarlett expected, she found Wade and Beau in the church, helping the florist place lavish arrangements of lilies, roses and camellias, as well as potted palms, around the altar. She was not surprised to see Beau; it was his responsibility, as best man, to take care of such arrangements, however, she did not expect to see Ashley. She discovered him sitting quietly in a pew near the back of the church, partially hidden by a massive column. Apparently deep in contemplation, he sat with head bent. His hair, more silver than gold now and thinning slightly at the crown, curled over his collar, and seemed to glow, halo-like, in the low light.

"Why Ashley Wilkes! What are you doing here?" The sharp sound of her voice echoed in the quiet of the large, empty sanctuary.

Ashley looked up at her, startled. "Oh, Scarlett! What a welcome surprise! After the rain, I wanted to get out for a walk, so the boys asked me to come here with them." He shook his head. "I'm so glad you're here. I needed someone to talk to."

"What on earth? Now's not the time for idle chitchat. You should be at the hotel getting ready!" She looked at him in consternation. "You need a haircut."

Ashley touched his head, and ran his fingers through his hair, then reached for her hand and clutched it needfully. For a man who was about to be married, he appeared tortured. Something was not right, Scarlett thought in alarm.

"Last night I couldn't sleep, and started thinking about…" He paused and shook his head. "It's no good! I'm not fit for Evangeline…"

"Oh, merciful heavens! What are you trying to say?" When he didn't respond her eyes widened in horror. "Surely you're not going to call off the wedding!"

"No, no! I would never dishonor her in that way. But, don't you see? Her future is bright, so full of promise, and I have so little to offer her. Instead, I'm tying my failure around her neck like a millstone."

"You must be joking!"

God's nightgown! What was _wrong_ with this man? Scarlett thought. This sudden burst of self-doubt seemed to go deeper than pre-wedding jitters, and was so typical of Ashley. How could he sit here and debate the rightness or wrongness of his decision to marry Evangeline _hours before the wedding_? They had been engaged for months!

He shook his head. "I wish I was. I've sold everything I owned in Atlanta just to be able to take her to France. In the meantime, I've abrogated my responsibilities by leaving my son in the custody of relatives." Ashley's head went down again, and his shoulders slumped dejectedly.

"Well, what of it?" She couldn't help but speak with a sharp edge of disapproval in her voice. "I paid you a more-than-fair price for the mills, and promised to take care of Beau! I suppose that wasn't good enough for you?"

"No, no, Scarlett! Please don't take offense! My debt to you runs deep. It's me—my failure! I haven't done a damned thing right since I came home from Rock Island!" He released her hand, covered his face, and sighed heavily as he slumped back in the pew. "St. Paul said it's better to marry than to burn, and I fear that's what has motivated me."

She was about to upbraid him when the gentle tug of an invisible hand held her back. Instead, Scarlett nudged Ashley to move over, then sat down next to him in the pew. She had promised Melanie she would take care of him, yet, do it in such a way that he wouldn't be aware. That promise shackled her to Ashley, and had never been more burdensome than it was now. Then there were the bonds of family; Marie-Ange and Evangeline had been better to Scarlett than her own sisters. She had to stand firm in defense of family honor.

"Do you love her?"

"I think so."

"You _think_ so? You don't _know_?"

"Yes! Yes, of course, I do," he sputtered hastily, correcting the impression of cooling ardor.

"Well…" Scarlett looked at Ashley out of the corner of her eye. Instinctually she wanted to give him a good slap across the face, but realized it would do nothing to improve this situation. Harsh words might suffice. "Truth be told, you weren't good enough for Melly either!"

He dropped his hands from his face, his head jerked up, and he looked at her, his expression a mixture of incredulity and hurt. Scarlett smiled inwardly; she'd hit her mark.

"You understand what I mean then! I was not a good provider for her, despite your best efforts, and I'm afraid I won't be for Evangeline either."

"Melly didn't care about that, she loved you."

"You're right," he murmured.

"Of course I am! Now as for you and Evangeline, she loves you, too. Why, she thinks of you as her knight in shining armor."

"That may be, but you used to feel the same way, and later found out that that man never existed. He was a figment of your imagination. She'll discover that soon enough as well."

"You're wrong, so wrong! I never appreciated you, not like she does. Not only that, you believed in her when no one else did, just like…" Scarlett stopped speaking abruptly. "Just like Rhett believed in me," she added slowly, in a softer tone. Her indignation over Ashley's paralyzing doubts suddenly diminished.

She reached for his arm and shook it to rouse him. "You believed in her dream of becoming a doctor, you were the only one who encouraged her, and look at what happened. Your love for her helped make it possible. Marie-Ange says she will need your support more than ever once she starts her training in Paris. Don't be a blind fool! You believed in her, and she loves you. What more proof do you need that it's the right thing to do? Accept her love and be happy! Don't make the same mistake I made." Scarlett watched Ashley's face as he pondered her words.

The few minutes it took for him to fully absorb her message seemed like an eternity. Finally, his face relaxed, and a look of relief spread across his features. "Scarlett, you are my dearest, most cherished friend. Thank you," he said, as he gathered her to him in an embrace.

Scarlett pushed away from him, and waved him off. "Well, the best thing you can do right now is get back to the hotel as quickly as possible and get ready for your wedding!"

Ashley kissed Scarlett's cheek. "Tell the boys I've gone. I'll see you at six."

Scarlett smiled sourly, and nodded. She watched Ashley as he walked down the aisle toward the altar. He paused momentarily in front of a large spray of flowers, leaning over to smell a rose, before slipping out the unlocked side door.

Scarlett shook her head in consternation. Would she ever understand him?

Despite the relief she felt now that Ashley was gone, the past continued to bombard her with unwanted reminders from yet another source: Rhett. She tried to blot out the memory of the last trip she made to Charleston, to demand answers from him about the blind newspaper notice regarding accusations made against her in a divorce petition in an out of state court. True to form, he neatly turned the tables on her.

_Rhett ushered Scarlett into a small, well-appointed office. She quickly scanned the room with interest. It was tastefully furnished, but spare; there were no visible personal touches. At one end was a wall of barrister bookcases, at the other, was a graceful cherry desk with a folder sitting on the blotter next to a pen and ink well. He held out the chair placed in front of the desk, gesturing for Scarlett to sit. After seating her, Rhett went to a cabinet under the window and pulled out a humidor, a bottle of bourbon, and two glasses. _

"_Care for a drink?"_

_Scarlett wrinkled her brow in consternation. "It's ten in the morning!"_

"_I take it that means 'no'."_

_Scarlett held her tongue, all the while silently questioning Rhett's motivation for inviting her into his office. She watched him open the humidor, select a cigar, then clip the end and light it, while she sat in a state of still alertness, like a small animal in the presence of a predator. After bolting down a shot of whiskey, he sat down behind the desk, opened the folder, pulled out a legal document, and slid it in front of her. In disbelief she read the top of the page, "State of Indiana, Divorce Petition, Butler v. Butler". Her stomach lurched, and her cheeks reddened. He scrutinized her coolly. _

"_Is this what that newspaper notice was about? You don't live in Indiana! This can't be legal!"_

"_How perceptive of you; I didn't think you'd see those notices. I am, indeed, a legal Indiana resident. I have both a home address and a business address. I sit on the board of directors of a steamship company in Jeffersonville. The legality of this document cannot be contested."_

"_So that's where you go when you leave me in Atlanta!"_

_The corners of Rhett's mouth lifted in an enigmatic smile lacking true feeling. "Among other places." Then, he rose and turned toward the window, returning the bourbon bottle to the cabinet._

"_What if I refuse to sign?"_

_A plume of smoke from the cigar curled around his head like a vaporous halo. _

"_It's your choice whether or not you sign. Either way, it's over. I won't be going back to Atlanta to perpetuate this meaningless charade we call a marriage."_

_He continued to look out the window. The room was dead quiet, save for the unnerving ticking of a captain's clock inches away from Scarlett's hand on the desk. Elsewhere in the house, she could hear her Aunt Pauline's twittering laugh. _

_Scarlett began to tremble. She hoped she could keep her breakfast down. She picked up the pen and scrawled hastily on the line for her signature. With a rustle of her skirt she rose and left without saying another word. _

_Rhett never turned away from the window. He stood there watching passersby on the sidewalk. Scarlett caught a last glimpse of him standing there as she and her aunt walked down the street, away from his mother's house, and out of his life. _

Seeing him yesterday served as a mocking reminder of that day. Long ago he told her that when he was young he refused to marry a fool merely because propriety demanded it. Instead, he killed the brother who insisted on defending her honor in a duel, and accepted his fate as an outcast. Similarly, he preferred the infamy of divorce to remaining married to a fool who he thought never loved him. It was her mark of failure. After the divorce, only Ashley and Aunt Pitty offered her love, friendship, and loyalty. Shunned in Atlanta, the only leverage she had in society was the refuge she found in Marie-Ange's home. With Rhett's presence at this wedding, she felt her precarious position slipping out of her control.

Yet, her stubborn mind rebelled against such fatalistic thoughts. "No! I am a Robillard! He can't harm me here!" With steely resolve she lifted her chin, rose, and slowly made her way to the altar. "I'm as bad as Ashley," she thought, gritting her teeth.

After checking all the floral arrangements again, she went in search of the florist. He needed to make a delivery to the house as well, and could give her a ride back.

"God," she muttered, "I hate weddings!"

ooOOoo

The scene was so ordinary—a young bride, her family and attendants preparing for the wedding. Marie-Ange, Juliette, Scarlett, Ella, Aunt Pitty, Ashley's sisters, and Evangeline's bridesmaids all crowded into her room to assist in turning out the bride. A light-hearted mood prevailed as the ladies flitted about the bride, helping her. Yet, Scarlett couldn't help but feel a dark undercurrent. Whether it was Ashley's doubts or the building tension she felt about seeing Rhett, she couldn't say.

"I was starting to wonder if this day would ever come," Marie-Ange remarked teasingly as she straightened the back of the skirt on Evangeline's gown.

Juliette drew up next to Marie-Ange, and, laughing, placed a hand on her shoulder. "Well, little sister, Papa and Mama thought you'd never marry either! You only wanted to play the piano. When you begged to go to Paris to study at the Conservatory, Mama told Papa it might help you find a husband. She said, 'With our money and name, plus her musical talent, it will help her make a brilliant match.'"

Marie-Ange smiled knowingly at her sister. "Truly it did; Mama was wise. Louis followed me all the way across the Atlantic, and refused take 'no' for an answer! But my darling daughter, on the other hand, always seemed to enjoy tormenting her suitors."

"Oh, Mama! None of them believed a woman should go to college. I had no use for such young men," she averred, then, her face softened. "Ashley is different. I knew from the first time I met him, when he spent hours talking to Papa in the library, that he was meant for me."

The maid of honor, one of Evangeline's good friends from her days at the women's college in Macon, seemed enraptured. "Evie, that sounds so romantic!"

Evangeline smiled, her face flushed with the fullness of emotion she was feeling in the presence of all these women who loved her and wished her well. "It is, isn't it? We share the life of the mind, as well as the heart. He isn't afraid of a woman with an education."

Scarlett, who had been fiddling with the bow on the sash of Ella's dress, tensed when talk turned to Evangeline's feelings for Ashley. "These silly, homely, bluestocking old maids all atwitter at the romance of their friend marrying Ashley! What nonsense! If they only knew!" she thought contemptuously. The conversation in the church was still too fresh in her memory, and she wondered if Marie-Ange would permit the ceremony to proceed if she had been privy to Ashley's thoughts just a few short hours ago.

"Now let's see," mused one of the bridesmaids, a sallow young woman from the North who had attended medical school with Evangeline. The flat tones of her accent grated on Scarlett's nerves, and she thought the girl looked like she was in need of a doctor herself. "You need something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue."

"Don't forget the six pence for wealth!" called out another.

Scarlett bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. If Ashley and Evangeline were to acquire wealth, it most likely wouldn't be due to Ashley's efforts. "They'll be lucky to stave off poverty," she thought.

"Your veil was my own, so that's something old, and your gown is something new," Marie-Ange said as she anchored a wreath of orange blossoms over the veil on Evangeline's head.

Evangeline lifted her skirt to reveal blue garters holding up her stockings. She flashed a saucy grin. "Something blue!"

The assembled ladies all laughed.

Honey Wilkes Cooper produced a satin pouch. "I have something very special here!" Opening the pouch, she brought out a pair of pearl pendant earrings, and smiled at Evangeline. "These were our mother's. I'm sure Ashley will notice them. So now you have something borrowed."

Evangeline grasped Honey's hand in appreciation and affection. "Oh, thank you! They're exquisite! You've really made me feel like… like we're really and truly sisters."

Honey hugged Evangeline, as India looked on coolly. Scarlett saw her tight-lipped look of bitterness, and realized India was always second best, no matter the situation. Stuart Tarleton preferred Scarlett to India. Melanie preferred Scarlett to India, and now it appeared that Evangeline preferred Honey to India. Even Aunt Pitty preferred Scarlett to India. India looked away from her sister quickly, and met Scarlett's gaze. Their eyes locked for a moment in mutual enmity, waves of dislike emanating from each woman. Fortunately, the others were blissfully unaware, and the moment passed.

Juliette held up an engraved locket on a fine gold chain. Inside the locket were miniatures of Colette and Jacques Robillard, her parents, Evangeline's grandparents. She put the necklace around Evangeline's neck and fastened the clasp. She kissed her on the cheek. "Mama would have been so proud of you today."

Marie-Ange and Juliette hugged each other, both of them transfixed by the sight of Evangeline in her wedding finery.

Aunt Pitty fumbled with a coin purse. "Here's a silver sixpence for your shoe!" she crowed triumphantly, waving the little coin.

Ella peered into the elderly woman's plump hand. "Auntie, that's a penny, not a six pence."

Pitty began to search through her coins again. "Goodness, I know I have it here somewhere. Scarlett, did I give it to you?"

Scarlett was occupied passing out the bridesmaids' bouquets from the large box the florist had delivered. "No, Auntie. I don't have it," she said with an air of distraction.

Ella took the coin purse from Aunt Pitty, emptied its contents, and came up without the sixpence.

"It looks like you may have left it at home, Auntie," Ella said gently.

"Oh, dear me, dear me, I feel faint!" The old lady began rapidly fanning herself. Scarlett guided her to a chair, and she sat down heavily. "Scarlett, you look."

Scarlett did as directed, and again, found no sixpence.

As if she had just awakened from a deep reverie, India finally spoke up. "I'm sorry, I forgot. You gave it to me to carry, Aunt Pitty."

Rather than say something, India let Pitty make a fool of her self. "How loathsome!" Scarlett thought.

"Thank you, India!" Evangeline took the coin from her, and slipped it into her shoe. She beamed at her attendants. "I think I'm ready now!"

Marie-Ange rearranged the veil so it was covering Evangeline's face, and made sure the orange blossoms were still securely in place. "Then, we must go," she said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "You don't want Ashley to think you're leaving him at the altar!"

As the rest of the women laughed at Marie-Ange's teasing remark, Scarlett shuddered inwardly. "It's bad luck," she thought in the gloom of foreboding. "A wedding during Lent, bad luck indeed!"

ooOOoo

At 5:40 in the evening, the Lockwood carriage pulled up in front of the Independent Presbyterian Church on Bull Street, joining a line of vehicles discharging passengers. Built by the prosperous Calvinist merchants of Savannah in the last century, the church stood as a testament to the hard work, thrift, and religious fervor of its members, most of whom were of Scottish descent, but among them were some French Huguenots. The lines of the building were clean and solid with sturdy Doric columns supporting the pediment of the portico. Above that rose a graceful clock tower on a square base, topped by three octagonal tiers, with a majestic spire pointing to the heavens like the finger of God.

The turnout for this wedding was impressive. The citizens of Savannah held the Desormeaux name in high regard, largely due to Louis Desormeaux's efforts to eradicate yellow fever through his work at the Oglethorpe Medical School and as a member of the Georgia Medical Society. People said his devotion to that cause ended up killing him.

Rhett knew that Rosemary credited Dr. Desormeaux's superior skill as a surgeon with saving her life, and those of her twins. Rosemary was now unable to bear other children, an unfortunate side effect of the Caesarian delivery, but she didn't care. Her gratitude was endless, and extended to Marie-Ange and Evangeline as well. Once they made the decision to attend, Rosemary breathlessly told Rhett that the Desormeaux-Wilkes union was going to be the wedding of the season. It struck Rhett as slightly ridiculous, the groom being Ashley Wilkes, but this was Savannah, and, as any Charlestonian could tell you, it was a world apart.

Rhett and Rosemary agreed that that distinction explained much about the peculiar behavior of Savannahians in general, and, at times, her husband Richard in particular. Rhett had no quibble with Richard; he was a good husband and father, scion of a family with an old and honored name, and overall an affable companion. Yet, he was a man of moderate means, and modest ambition; he did not possess the sort of restless energy that causes a man to seek more from life than the ordinary. Savannahians considered the ordinary to be quite pleasant, having not suffered the destruction and depredations at the hands of Sherman's army that Atlanta and Charleston had. Rhett thought Rosemary could have done better, but felt his own matrimonial disaster disqualified him from offering an opinion. Besides, he owed Richard and Rosemary a debt of gratitude for taking him in and caring for him when he arrived on their doorstep with a broken arm, half dead from pneumonia.

He alighted from the carriage and held out his hand for Rosemary. She took Rhett's arm, and then her husband's, after he got out of the carriage, and between the two men, entered the church. Strains of Handel's Water Music Suite No. 1 – Air, played by a string quartet, floated out of the sanctuary. An usher took the invitation from Richard, and asked on which side their party should be seated: the bride's or the groom's.

Reflexively Rhett responded, "Groom," as Richard said "Bride." The puzzled usher looked from one to the other, as the brothers-in-law exchanged amused looks. Rhett deferred to Richard, with a gesture of self-reproach. Once they were seated, Rhett discreetly looked around, taking in the details of the church interior. The level of detail was ornate without being grandiose; it was tasteful. It appealed to him.

Elegantly dressed wedding guests continued to fill the mahogany pews. Glancing around the half-filled sanctuary, Rhett recognized a number of familiar faces on the groom's side. It was a veritable collection of Atlanta's finest families: members of the extended Hamilton-Wilkes tribe including Burrs, Whitmans, and Winfields were present, as were the Meades, Merriwethers, Picards, Elsings, Whitings, and Bonnells. These were not associations he cherished, so Rhett did his best to avoid making eye contact with any of them. Before he turned away, he spied India Wilkes, dressed in black with her hair pulled back in a severe bun, seated next to Pittypat Hamilton. India looked like she was attending a funeral rather than a wedding. Her face was fixed in a tight expression of disapproval, making her appear to be a good deal older than her thirty-eight years. His gaze lingered a moment too long. India caught sight of him, and nudged Pittypat, who also turned and placed a gloved hand over her tremulous mouth as her face jumped in recognition.

Rose-gold rays from the setting sun penetrated the last of the storm clouds, and shone through the tall Federal windows. Through this momentary blinding flash of light an usher led a woman to her place in the front of the church on the bride's side of the aisle. Her dress was stylish but not ostentatious, and showed off her figure to perfection. Her carriage was erect, her head held high, looking neither left nor right as she strolled down the center aisle to her place. Before she released his arm, she leaned toward the usher, and he placed a kiss on the woman's cheek. As the sun glare faded, Rhett realized he had been watching Scarlett and Wade. He hadn't gotten a full look at her the day before in the tearoom. Despite the years, her appeal appeared to be unchanged; she was still able to capture the attention of any man in the room just by walking through it. Wade, however, had changed considerably, now standing taller than his mother. When had he grown to be nearly a man? Rhett felt a strong rush of memory; the years melted away, as he remembered holding Wade in his infancy, dandling him on his knee, and, suddenly, he felt old.

Wade met Rhett's curious gaze as he returned to the back of the church. There was a flicker of recognition before his open-faced half smile froze, then his expression closed as he looked away. Another usher moved down the aisle, leading Marie-Ange to her seat next to Scarlett. Shortly after the women were seated, Ashley and Beau appeared at the altar. That was the signal for the string quartet to stop playing as the great pipe organ in the choir loft rumbled to life. Upon hearing the opening chords of Wagner's Bridal Chorus from Lohengrin, all heads swiveled to the rear of the church, straining to see the bride.

Two youngsters, both of roughly the same age, led the bridal procession. The boy twitched uncomfortably in his wedding finery, looking as though he would rather run up the aisle than proceed at the stately pace required. The girl, smaller than the boy and fine-boned, smiled broadly as she held her head upright and proud. "So like her mother!" Rhett thought upon recognizing Ella.

The bride arrived, the music stopped, and the minister began to solemnly intone the ancient words of the wedding service.

_Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the presence of God to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony._

In general, weddings didn't hold much appeal for Rhett, but this one he regarded with morbid fascination. Wilkes, the groom! Who would have thought it?

_God himself instituted marriage at the beginning in the Garden of Eden, before sin entered the world. He said, "It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a help meet for him."_

No, a man should not live alone. Apparently, Wilkes, too, felt that emptiness in his life.

_Have ye not read, that he which made them at the beginning made them male and female, and said, 'For this cause shall a man leave father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife: and they twain shall be one flesh'? Wherefore they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder._

Rhett felt an irrational spark of anger. "They are no more twain… Let not man put asunder." Hadn't Wilkes once been a constant presence separating him and Scarlett? And yet, who actually put asunder the union? Who indeed!

_George Ashley, will you have this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of marriage? And will you love her as Christ loved the church and gave himself for her, will you comfort her, honor and cherish her, and forsaking all others keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?_

His voice sounded soft and clear as he answered without hesitation.

_I will._

_Evangeline Denise__, will you have this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of marriage? And will you love him, comfort him, respect and submit to him even as the church submits to Christ, and forsaking all others keep yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?_

_I will. _

Evangeline's answer rang out in the hushed sanctuary. Rhett could hear muffled sniffling, presumably women responding with emotion to the moving ceremony. He observed Rosemary squeezing Richard's hand.

_Who gives this woman to be married to this man?_

_My brothers and I do._

Rosemary caught Rhett's eye, and spoke to him under her breath. "That's Mark Desormeaux, Evangeline's brother."

Rhett nodded.

After the invocation, and a brief homily on the redemptive nature of marriage in God's plan that caused Rhett to roll his eyes, wishing it were possible to unobtrusively slip out, the ceremony proceeded to the exchange of vows.

_I, George Ashley, take you, Evangeline Denise, to be my wedded wife, and I do promise and covenant before God and these witnesses to be your loving and faithful husband in sickness and in health, in plenty and in want, in joy and in sorrow, as long as we both shall live._

"As long as we both shall live," or until all love is strangled by unrealistic expectations, life devolves into pure misery, and the marriage becomes utterly irredeemable?

_I, Evangeline Denise, take you, George Ashley, to be my wedded husband, and I do promise and covenant before God and these witnesses to be your loving and faithful wife in sickness and in health, in plenty and in want, in joy and in sorrow, as long as we both shall live._

Ashley placed a ring on Evangeline's finger. The minister droned on. Finally, it was over.

The bride and groom headed up the center aisle to the strains of Mendelssohn's Wedding March. Evangeline exuded transcendent happiness as she smiled at her new husband. As for Wilkes, his face had more color and life in it than Rhett had ever seen as he gripped Evangeline's hand against his arm; he looked as though his sap was rising. In that look Rhett saw the joy of a middle-aged man taking a young bride, something he once felt. Ashley's rekindled manhood betokened the triumph of hope over experience, and reminded Rhett of his delight and foolish hope, on his own wedding day, that the union would fulfill his deepest longings.

He was still immersed in that thought when he felt Rosemary's hand on his arm. As he turned his attention to his sister, he had the vague awareness of eyes upon him. In a quick glance toward the altar, he caught sight of Scarlett staring at him. Her sharp, penetrating gaze was at once defiant and defensive, a challenge and a warning to be wary. That look recalled the breakdown of their marriage, and hope dashed by experience. A promise broken: "Let not man put asunder."

He quickly averted his eyes, and patted Rosemary's hand. "We should go," he said quietly, as he thought bitterly: God, I hate weddings!

ooOOoo

In the cool, dew-kissed air of early evening, Rhett and the Lockwoods waited under the portico for their carriage to pull up to the front of the church. Richard and Rosemary chatted with friends; Rhett stood apart. The gathering twilight obscured faces, and Rhett was glad for it, hoping to attain a degree of anonymity in this crowd.

Marie-Ange Desormeaux moved among the wedding guests, accepting congratulations and well wishes. She stopped at Rosemary's side, greeting her and Richard, gesturing toward Rhett. He moved a little closer to them in order to hear what she had to say.

"… you simply must come back to my house for the reception."

Rosemary, speechless, looked at Rhett. He shrugged imperceptibly.

"Of course," Rosemary murmured, smiling uncertainly at the older woman.

"Wonderful!" Her expansive happiness enveloped them, and Rosemary glanced hopefully at Rhett.

Marie-Ange placed her lace mitt-covered hand on Rhett's arm, and drew him apart from his sister and brother-in-law.

"Please excuse me, Captain Butler. I realize this places you in an awkward position."

He shook his head, smiling politely. "Not at all, Mrs. Desormeaux." Damn right, he thought.

"You needn't pretend! I wish to share my family's joy this evening, and hope you will consider the offer in the spirit in which it was made."

He nodded, smiling politely. Why is she doing this, he wondered.

"I'm quite fond of your sister and her husband," she continued.

"Of course. My sister shares your fond regard."

Marie-Ange smiled at him, then, dropped her gaze and lowered her voice. Rhett had to lean in closer to her in order to hear her. "I've long admired the close relationship you and your sister share. You see, my oldest brother and I were very close when I was a child."

"Is he here this evening? It would be an honor to meet him."

"Oh, no. He left us many years ago."

"I'm sorry. Please forgive me. The war?"

"No, no. Long before that even. When I see the friendship that you and Rosemary share, I wonder if Philippe and I would have been so close as adults." She waved her hand, a gesture of airy dismissal of such heavy thoughts on this evening of celebration. "It's mere speculation, I'm afraid." She glanced at Rhett, under lowered lashes, for a moment. "However, it makes me want to know you better."

Rhett's quirked an eyebrow questioningly as he gave her a half smile. "Indeed?"

Marie-Ange laughed, a rich, round sound of amusement. "I'm sorry! How forward of me! I did not mean to be so impertinent!"

"No, of course not." Curious, he thought. What does she want? Based on their first meeting at Rosemary's dinner party, he was certain she was not interested in being courted by him, especially now that she knew he was her cousin's ex-husband.

"Our Ella was so excited when she heard you would be attending the wedding. She, Wade, and Beau would be delighted to see you this evening."

Rhett remembered the look on Wade's face. Perhaps not Wade, he thought. "Yes, I would enjoy spending a little time with them as well."

"Marvelous!"

A voice called out to Marie-Ange to hurry, she was keeping their carriage waiting.

"Captain Butler, I beg for your understanding."

"I would be more than happy to oblige, Mrs. Desormeaux."

"My cousin…"

The words pierced him, and he stiffened. So finally she's come to the point she's been dancing around.

Marie-Ange shook her head sadly. "She works too hard. It makes her somewhat… tense." She looked up at him with an air of supplication. "Please, accept and be kind."

"I'm sure I don't understand."

She gave him a knowing look, as though they shared some secret knowledge. "It would be a kindness she dearly needs." Marie-Ange moved away from him, hurrying toward her carriage, waving as she went.

Damn! He'd baited his own trap! Shaking his head in disbelief, Rhett cursed himself for his desire to satisfy the strange urge to see Ashley Wilkes wed. This could only happen in Savannah!

**A/N: The Independent Presbyterian Church of Savannah was featured in the opening of the movie Forrest Gump. A feather floated by the spire at the beginning of that film.**


	6. Courage of the Lionhearted

**Please excuse the long delay, since last updating I started a new job. The usual disclaimer applies: I do not own GWTW; it is the intellectual property of Margaret Mitchell. Thanks as always to Bugsie for beta-ing, and Bella and Wickedwms for encouragement. Also, to my very special guest reviewer, Melissa, many, many thanks. **

Part III – Rhett and Scarlett

_I know your heart which overflows  
__With outworn loves long cast aside  
__Still like a furnace flames and glows,  
__And you within your breast enclose  
__A damned soul's unbending pride;_

-Charles Baudelaire

The ride from the church to Lafayette Square was brief. Rhett remained silent, mired in his thoughts. The choices he'd made since arriving in Savannah yesterday afternoon brought him to this impasse; he couldn't blame Wilkes or Mrs. Desormeaux. Awkward didn't begin to describe this state of affairs: to be a guest in the Desormeaux home along with his ex-wife and stepchildren. By virtue of that fact alone, he didn't belong at the reception. But Rosemary did. These were her friends—and if she desired his company as well, he couldn't refuse. He owed her his life.

In the last hours on the _Falcon _he had faced certain death, and in the process, gained insight into his will to survive. It was a startling revelation. The five men who perished in the tempest that engulfed them had wives and children. What did he have to live for? There was neither wife nor child waiting for him to come home, and the peace he had long sought might be easier to find beyond the grave. Yet, he discovered his reason to live in Savannah, under Rosemary's roof.

Once he recovered from the ordeal, he'd visited the families of the dead as a means of atonement. Atonement for what he wasn't sure. Whether his transgression was making the decisions that set them sailing into a death-dealing storm, or having the good fortune to be the sole survivor, it didn't seem to matter.

_They thought they had passed through the worst of the storm. At its height, George Wolcott had gone overboard casting a pall on what had been, up until that point, a triumphal voyage. The remaining crewmembers felt numb. Their prize, the gleaming silver trophy, the Royal Bermuda Yacht Club Commodore's Cup engraved with their names, proclaimed their mastery of the sea: a cruel illusion. They manned the bilge pumps around the clock, hoping to hold back the inexorable rise of water in the hull. As the waves started to recede, they thought they had beaten the odds and ridden out the storm with only hours to go before making landfall in the Carolinas. Then, it happened. As they crossed over the warm waters of the Gulf Stream, a massive wave, a forty-foot rogue, slapped the _Falcon_ broadside, causing her to roll, shattering her mast, leaving her slowly-leaking hull adrift. Tom Gardner, Marvin Coumont and Freddie Montgomery had been washed off the deck, lost in the deluge. Rhett and Howard Aiken were left, and Aiken alone was still in one piece. When the boat rolled, Rhett's left arm was broken._

_Aiken. How could he forget the way Aiken cared for him on the dying boat. He found the last of the whiskey and made sure Rhett drank it all. He wrapped a stiff, cork-filled life vest around Rhett, securing his broken arm to his side underneath it. When Aiken thought he spotted the light on Tybee Island, he found a piece of broken shaving glass and used the mirrored surface to flash a signal to shore. Aiken had been a signalman during the war; he assured Rhett that help would be coming. They waited. They thought they saw a boat, but time was running out. They abandoned the _Falcon_ about a mile from shore, pushing off from her deck, clinging to a spar, as the waves topped the gunnels and she slipped out of sight. Aiken had wound a rope around his waist and Rhett's, tying them together so he could help Rhett if he lost hold of the slippery spar with his good arm. As he clung tightly to the spar, kicking with every last ounce of strength, Rhett felt pulling on the rope. He couldn't understand why. Finally, the rescue boat reached them, and the crew pulled them aboard. Rhett lay inert on the keel, as they worked to haul in Aiken. He slid in, a dead weight. Rhett looked at his face and the sickening realization dawned: he'd drowned._

_Rhett had gone first to see Jane, Aiken's wife, and their four children. He'd known the unconditional love of a parent for a child. He recognized the look of ineffable sadness in the children's eyes. He wanted to prostrate himself at Jane Aiken's feet and beg for her forgiveness._

Perhaps this reception was another opportunity to seek atonement. Wade and Ella had suffered from his decision to divorce Scarlett. He never made any attempt to continue a relationship with them. It would have been dishonest he'd thought long ago. Now, perhaps not, perhaps it was a means of acknowledging his importance to them as a father figure.

The carriage swayed through the corner at East Charlton and turned onto Abercorn Street before stopping in front of a gracious Italianate home set back from the road. In the dark, the lot appeared to be a luminous, lushly flowered space. Azaleas grew inside the wrought iron fence surrounding the property. A large magnolia marked the corner of the lot, its blossoms filling the air with heavy sweetness.

After exiting the carriage, Rhett and the Lockwoods entered the gate, passing the figure-eight shaped parterre gardens. Tiny lanterns twinkled amidst the foliage. The glow of lights within filled the windows on the main level and through those windows Rhett could see guests moving about the front parlor. A feeling of tense anticipation ran through him.

"Are you ready to face the lions, Rhett?" Rosemary asked with a smile.

He laughed. "I doubt the reception will be quite so fearsome."

"I have something else in mind. Come see." She beckoned him to follow her.

At the foot of the steps leading to the double front doors, Rosemary paused and patted the head of one of a pair of lions flanking the stairs.

"A friend of yours?" Rhett asked.

Rosemary smiled at her brother. "Peter likes to pat the lions' heads before he goes in for his piano lesson. He tells me it confers the needed pluck; it takes the courage of the Lion-hearted."

Rhett shook his head. "That sounds drastic. Mrs. Desormeaux doesn't strike me as a woman to fear."

"She's not, unless you're a little boy who hasn't mastered his piano lesson," Richard drawled drily.

Rhett reached for the cast iron lion's head, his hand sliding over the rippled surface of its mane and onto the cool smoothness of its back.

Rosemary eyed him with a questioning look as they mounted the stairs.

He gestured towards the door. "It takes the courage of the Lion-hearted_," _he said with a wink, causing her to laugh and playfully slap his arm with her fan.

Once inside the house, servants took ladies' wraps and men's hats, and ushered the guests into the far end of the double parlor. The pocket doors separating the rooms were opened, and it appeared that the front parlor was set up for dancing. At the moment, the bridal couple and a few immediate family members formed a receiving line, greeting their guests.

It was a much smaller, more intimate crowd than had been present at the church. Rhett spotted Scarlett seating her Aunt Pitty in a comfortable chair with a glass of punch and a plate of food. She seemed not to notice him, but others did: India Wilkes, Kitty Bonnell and her daughter Alice, and Mrs. Elsing and her daughter Fanny sat with their heads bent together, their tongues wagging, and eyes darting from one side of the room to the other.

"Into the arena," Rhett thought.

ooOOoo

Marie-Ange spotted Rhett and the Lockwoods out of the corner of her eye as they passed the entrance to the front parlor. As she smiled and greeted her guests, she wondered if she had done the right thing in urging them to attend the reception. But, she rationalized this might be the last chance for Scarlett to have a moment with her ex-husband. She dismissed the nagging uncertainty. If only Scarlett could gain a sense of resolution, and, finally, peace, that would suffice.

Marie-Ange and her son Mark cordially greeted the Lockwoods, passing them along to Evangeline and Ashley. As Rhett extended his hand to Marie-Ange, she leaned slightly toward him, and he discreetly inclined his ear to her.

"Go to the music room, across the hall," she murmured. He nodded, and moved on.

ooOOoo

Ashley's brows knit in consternation. "What in the name of God is Butler doing here?" he thought with alarm. Scarlett's emotional outburst the previous evening was still fresh in his mind, and he feared a similar reaction if she were to again come face-to-face with Butler. Stunned, he smiled and nodded as he shook Rhett's hand. Then he heard Beau's enthusiastic greeting.

"Uncle Rhett! What a capital surprise!"

Rhett smiled, said something polite that Ashley couldn't catch, before moving on, as directed by Nate, to the dining room for refreshments.

Ashley glanced nervously toward the other parlor where Scarlett was now mingling with some of her Robillard cousins. Fine beads of sweat were beginning to form on his brow. Thankfully, she seemed to be ignoring the presence of this surprise guest. He prayed Butler would leave before that changed. He didn't want to have to escort him out and cause a scene at his own wedding reception.

ooOOoo

The butler had directed the guests to exit the parlor and go to the dining room where a buffet supper was laid out. Rhett bypassed the food and accepted a cup of punch, wishing for something stronger, before heading off to the music room. Before slipping out, he touched Rosemary's elbow and told her he'd see her at home.

Rhett paused for a moment outside the partially opened music room door and observed the active scene within. The laughter caught his attention first. Wade lounged easily against the wall, between tall windows opened to catch the cooling evening breeze that rippled the lace curtains. He looked happy, drinking punch and laughing with Daniel and Paul Desormeaux. Then he noticed Ella sitting on the piano bench next to a younger girl, perhaps nine or ten years old, trying to show her how to play a tune. Under the piano, two little boys played with toy soldiers and wooden blocks, periodically lobbing a block at the girls' shoes. Ella ignored them, but the younger girl began to kick at the boys. The musicians who had played at the church were in the corner of the room unpacking their instruments, waiting for the receiving line to end before setting up for dancing.

As Rhett pushed the door open, and entered the room, mayhem erupted under the piano.

"Oww," howled one of the little boys. "You hurt me!"

Daniel dove under the piano and pulled the little boys out.

"Stop pestering Ella and Lily!" he admonished.

The older boys laughed louder. They were watching Daniel and, for a moment, didn't notice Rhett. Ella saw him first, her face lighting up with surprise and happiness. She swiveled around on the bench, as she exclaimed, "Uncle Rhett!"

As Rhett greeted her, Wade lunged toward his sister, clamping a hand on her shoulder to keep her from leaping off the piano bench. "Don't move," he snapped.

"Get your hand off me! Can't you see, it's Uncle Rhett!" Ella protested. Wade interposed himself between Rhett and Ella.

"I'm not blind," he hissed at his sister, "but apparently you are!" Then, he addressed Rhett with chilling rancor. "Your presence, sir, is most unexpected."

"Hello, Wade. It's good to see you again," Rhett said, extending his hand.

Wade didn't move to accept the gesture. "The feeling is not mutual."

The younger children sensed the tense atmosphere and hastily left the room in search of their mother, as Daniel shepherded them out.

Paul put his hand on Wade's arm. "It's a party, remember?"

Wade shook off Paul's hand, and stepped closer to Rhett. "Sir, your presence here is not welcome. Please leave."

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

"Wade, don't be so rude to Uncle Rhett," Ella burst out in a fit of pique.

Wade glared at his sister.

"Now, son…" As soon as he'd said it, Rhett realized his mistake. Wade clenched his fists tightly, visibly reddening; he looked as though he was about to explode. Daniel intervened quickly and suggested they go to the library where they might have a private conversation. He pushed Wade out the music room door before he could utter another word. Ella pouted and kicked the piano leg in frustration. Rhett patted her head and smiled ruefully as he eased past.

"It'll be alright, Ella."

The library was lit with a single lamp turned down low. The servants had been bringing guests' hats and wraps in here. Daniel ushered Wade and Rhett in, then left quickly. As the door clicked shut, Wade turned on Rhett.

"You have your nerve! It's a _wedding_. Do you understand what that signifies? The happy day when a man and woman get married, _for life?_ And don't ever call me 'son' because I'm not your son! My father was a man of honor. He would never have abandoned Mother and then… then shamed her like you did. He loved her, and if he were here tonight…"

"Excuse me, Wade. If your father were here tonight, I can assure you, I would have no reason to be here. I came because I wanted to see you and Ella. I realize how badly I wronged you…"

"Oh, that's rich! You finally admit _you_ did something wrong! Let me tell you, Captain Butler, _sir_, Ella and I are getting along fine without you. So is Mother. We want nothing to do with you, or anything that reminds us of you."

Rhett arched an eyebrow questioningly, letting Wade have his say before speaking again.

"I bet you didn't know that, did you? Uncle Henry told Mother to change her name after you… you left us in disgrace. And do you know what she changed it to?" Wade smirked at Rhett.

"Pray tell me."

"Hamilton!"

"Hamilton?"

"That's right," he crowed triumphantly. "The name given to her by a man who _really_ loved her."

"You may not believe this, but I loved your mother," Rhett said quietly.

"How dare you!" Wade lunged at Rhett, but Rhett held him off.

"Wade, please! Try to control yourself. I came because Mrs. Desormeaux invited me to spend a little time with you and Ella."

"Cousin Marie-Ange?" he gasped as he let go of the lapels of Rhett's jacket and took a step backward.

"Surprisingly, yes." Rhett looked askance at Wade as he loosed his grip on the young man's arms. Then, his face softened and his tone became thoughtful. "I thought it might be the only opportunity I would have to apologize to you for any hurt I caused when I left. You were young and trusted me like a father. I betrayed that trust. Saying 'sorry' can never repair what's been broken, but I want you to know that I realize what I did was terribly unjust, to you and your sister."

Wade stared sullenly at Rhett for a few tense seconds before speaking. "Are you finished?"

"Yes."

"I'm leaving. I trust you will, too, if you have any decency at all." Wade turned away from Rhett. He paused before the door to compose himself. He took a deep breath, straightened his jacket, and quickly brushed his hair off his face, and without a backward glance, left.

Rhett shook his head sadly. There was nothing left to do here, he thought.

He found his hat and picked it up, but held back for a moment. He took a cursory glance around the room. The library was usually a man's space, probably the late doctor's refuge. Curious, he walked toward the desk. The collection behind the desk in the corner caught his eye. Among the medical books, he found one entitled _Techniques Chirurgicales en Urologie_ by Desormeaux Frères, and next to it _Techniques Chirurgicales en Obstétrique et Gynécologie _by the same authors. He pulled the urology text off the shelf, date of publication 1864. "During the war," he thought.

As he was flipping through the pages, Marie-Ange entered the room, entered so quietly that she took him by surprise.

"Captain Butler? Please forgive my misjudgment. I invited you to be my guest to share our happiness, not to be maligned. Wade has such a placid manner, I never dreamt he would react so badly." She shook her head. "They say still waters run deep."

"You had honorable intentions. I'll not create a greater disturbance. I was planning to leave, but this book caught my eye." He lifted the volume for her to see.

"Something of interest?"

"Not exactly. My curiosity was piqued when I noticed the authors, Desormeaux Frères."

"My husband and his brother. My brother-in-law, Antonin, is a well-known surgeon and urologist in Paris. Evangeline will be completing her medical training with him at the Necker Hospital."

"Commendable. I noticed the date of publication of this book was during the war. Your husband was able to smuggle his manuscript out despite the blockade?"

"No, no. We were living in Paris at the time. Louis was a Frenchman. He was invited to this country to lecture at American medical schools on the techniques that he and his brother had developed. That volume you hold describes some of their work." Marie-Ange flipped through the pages and found the chapter entitled Cystourethroscopy. "Here. Antonin improved existing techniques, and performed the first successful excision of a bladder tumor. Louis taught the technique at the medical school here in Savannah, and subsequently joined the faculty. When the war came, the medical school closed and all the professors joined the war effort. Louis said this was not his country, nor his fight, and he insisted we leave. He would not see his family in harm's way, especially since he did not support our customs in the South."

"Customs?"

"Slavery, specifically."

"Ah, I see. But you came back."

"Yes, after seven years away; a family matter had to be settled. Louis wanted to return to France to continue his work with his brother, but we stayed because I wished it." She shrugged, then, gave Rhett a penetrating look. "One makes sacrifices for love, does one not?"

Rhett nodded. "That was magnanimous of him, and redounded to the benefit of my family. I thank you for your persistence."

Marie-Ange smiled sadly. "Louis cared a great deal about his patients, as well as his family." She squeezed her eyes shut. "If we had not stayed, if I had not insisted, he would still be with us… would never have contracted the yellow fever." She turned away, drawing a deep breath.

Rhett realized she was weeping softly. He reached out and gently placed his hand on her arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause you sorrow." It seemed his presence here was a source of distress for everyone he encountered.

Marie-Ange remained mute as she struggled to control her emotions. Rhett pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and started to offer it to her, but Marie-Ange plucked one from the sleeve of her dress first.

She bit her lip and shook her head as she daubed at her eyes. "Please excuse me for this untoward display of emotion. My husband was deeply attached to our only daughter." Catching her breath, she turned away from Rhett, and moved to leave the room.

He held fast to her arm, as she twisted away from him. He felt compelled to speak before she left, to offer some comfort. God knows he understood how it felt to re-examine a decision seemingly gone wrong. He wanted to relieve her of the burden of that undeserved guilt.

"Hindsight gives us the illusion of control over events, events that play out in ways we never expect. You shouldn't blame yourself."

A rustle of skirts, and a shadow crossing the threshold of the library caught his attention.

Rhett looked toward the door, and there stood India Wilkes, eyes narrowed, face tight with disapproval, glaring at him though she spoke to Marie-Ange.

"The musicians have finished setting up, and Ashley and Evangeline are ready for the first dance," she said in an icy voice. Without waiting for a reaction or reply, she briskly walked away.

Rhett's arms fell to his sides. The scene India viewed must have appeared wildly inappropriate. "Mrs. Desormeaux…"

"I must go."

"Forgive my rashness."

"You treated me with kindness. There is nothing to forgive," she said as she hurried out of the room.

Once more alone, Rhett looked at the illustration on the page to which the book had been left open: insertion technique of the cystourethroscope on a male patient. "Good Lord!" he muttered as he snapped the book shut. He would have to be suffering a great deal before he would submit to such a procedure!

The thought of the look on India's face brought forth an equally strong feeling of revulsion. The old cats of Atlanta were holding court in the parlor. No doubt word had circulated through the room that he and Wade had had words. He wondered how Scarlett managed to endure their scrutiny. Just the same, he wasn't here to find out. He had congratulated the bridal couple, attempted to speak to the children, and now felt free to slip out as unobtrusively as possible. From the library, he realized he would need to pass the parlor and music room to exit the front door. Instead, he opted to slip through the archway separating the dining room from the butler's pantry, and pass through to the rear piazza, and into the garden. He had seen the garden gate on East Charlton Street as the carriage passed by on the way from the church; it would provide an easy and discreet point of exit.

Servants were preparing the dining room for the cake cutting after the dancing. A two-tiered cake, decorated with fresh cut flowers had been placed on the table. From the arched passage, Rhett saw the cook and her assistant placing small boxes on the sideboard, soon to be filled with cut wedding cake for guests to take home.

He was about to push through the door onto the piazza when he heard voices coming from the servants staircase, one low and angry, the other, clear and even-toned: two women in the middle of a heated discussion.

"Eavesdropping is a nasty habit," he thought, but he couldn't resist listening for a few moments.

"_I hope you're happy," sneered one of the women._

"_What are you talking about? I don't have any patience for you or your slander this evening."_

Scarlett. Scarlett and India. Were they talking about Wade?

"_I know what I saw, and I retract nothing!"_

Of course, India inflating the significance of what she saw in the library.

"_There was probably a very innocent explanation for it."_

Thank you, Scarlett.

"_Highly unlikely. She said she met him at a dinner party. I dare say they are more than just friends!"_

What a bitter, sanctimonious old maid!

"_Friends, yes! And that's as far as it goes. Only someone as miserable as you would misconstrue the situation. As long as you are a guest in this house, I'd advise you to keep your low-minded opinions to yourself. Melanie was right—you are unhinged!"_

Touché! Keep giving it right back to her!

Rhett heard the clicking of heels on the risers coming closer; one of the two was descending the stairs. Then he heard India's voice.

"_I'll tell whomever I wish whatever I want, and I defy you or anyone else to prove me wrong!"_

Dear God! Scarlett was right; she is unhinged!

In the silence that followed Scarlett's anger was almost palpable.

"_India Wilkes, you've felt free to besmirch my name, and even that of your own brother, despite what I've done for your family. But we are not in Atlanta. I warn you, if you decide to slander Marie-Ange in a similar fashion, you will be turned out!"_

"_Well, Kitty Bonnell said…" India responded hotly._

"_I don't care what that old peahen has to say, and no one else will either."_

"_You aren't fit for the company of decent people! You or that despicable man your cousin seems to be so fond of!"_

"_Just remember which side your bread is buttered on! I dare say Honey's husband wouldn't be too happy to see you return to live with them."_

There was a momentary pause as one of them began climbing the stairs.

"_Oh, India," Scarlett added with acid-laced sweetness, "mind the top step. A carpet tack has worked loose. I wouldn't want you to catch your toe, and trip and fall."_

_India harrumphed._

Rhett heard Scarlett's footfalls and the door at the top of the stairs closing.

He quickly passed through onto the piazza, and then descended the steps to the garden. Before going out the gate, he paused to light a cigar. Light pierced the darkness momentarily as the door opened again. Rhett looked up and made out the figure of a woman stepping out of the shadows on the piazza.

She looked out over the darkened garden, and then stiffened as she noticed his silhouette, punctuated by the glowing tip of his cigar.

He came closer, moving soundlessly with feline stealth. It takes the courage of the Lion-hearted, he thought with a twinge of irony, before addressing her. "Hello, Scarlett."

**A/N: Antonin Desormeaux (1815-1894) was an actual French physician renowned for his improvements to the cystourethroscope ****(he coined the term) ****as described in the story, and published his compiled lectures as _Endoscopy and Its Applications in Diagnosis and Treatment of Diseases of the Urethra and Bladder (1865)_. He was a physician at l'Hôpital Necker in Paris, site of the first pediatric hospital in the Western world, and also where Laennec invented the stethoscope in 1816. The surname Desormeaux may be more familiar to Americans and horse race fans as that of jockey Kent Desormeaux who rode Big Brown to victory in the Kentucky Derby and Preakness in 2008. The house on Lafayette Square is modeled after the Andrew Low House, one time home of Juliette Gordon Low, founder of the Girl Scouts of America.**


End file.
